


Glassy Sky

by Just_Low



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Akatani Mikumo - Freeform, Angst, Anteiku Café (Tokyo Ghoul), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, BAMF Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Barista Midoriya Izuku, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Cannibalism, Coffee Addict Midoriya Izuku, Crazy Toga Himiko, Crime Scenes, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Ghoul Midoriya Izuku, Ghoul Quirk, Insomniac Midoriya Izuku, Mentioned Giran, Mentioned Kota Izumi, Mentioned Midoriya Inko, Mentioned Sir Nighteye, Mentioned Stendhal, Mentioned Tsukauchi Makoto, Mentioned Waterhoses (My Hero Academia), Midoriya Izuku Does Not Go to U.A. High School, Midoriya Izuku Does Not Have One for All Quirk, Midoriya Izuku Has a Quirk, Midoriya Izuku is a Good Friend, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Midoriya Izuku, Scary Midoriya Izuku, Short Chapters, Slow To Update, Sweet Toga Himiko, Toga Himiko is a Good Friend, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku, Villain Midoriya Izuku, Violence, Yakuza, fake name
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2020-06-29 23:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19840795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Low/pseuds/Just_Low
Summary: A ghoulish villain cannibalizes their victims; yet these corpses are often criminals too, thus making this particular person a 'vigilante' in an ironic sense.One night, this guardian angel (or perhaps, demon) crosses paths with a equally troubled girl.After that.. Musutafu will never be the same.





	1. That Stormy Night: Cloudburst

Thick icy clouds cover Musutafu like a blanket. The murky overcast cracks with streaks of lightning, jagged lines slicing through the vapor like a knife digging into soft flesh. A grey fog begins to drift overhead, the broken shape of it forming a glassy sky. 

It's late, not even a single car splashes through the flooded streets. Periodically, streetlights gleam overhead, shadows dark & crisp in the flickering glow. The sound of emptiness hums with the dying bulbs, only to be disrupted by a loud gregarious boom of thunder. 

At last, the first of many water droplets begin to descend from above. It doesn't trickle out like a shower faucet; it's more like the clouds could no longer hold the weight. The rain has become a living fabric, something one can reach their hand through. It's almost like being in a car with the window open, an outstretched arm surfing through the fast moving air.

Cold beads of water land on a girl's pale skin, running down her thin frame. She skids across the slippery path of a flooded sidewalk, her posture weakened by the weight of her soaking clothes.

Arms wrapped around herself, the drenched cardigan doing a poor job of keeping her warm now that it's wet, she tries to duck under a shop's awning to get someplace dryer. The fierce sound of heavy rainfall pounding on the sheet above her head is louder than the occasional boom of thunder. She shudders when a chilly breeze nearly sweeps her off of her feet. It's not an ideal place to wait the storm out, but it's the best she's got. 

The girl then catches sight of herself in the shop's window reflection. Messy blonde buns had become slightly frizzled and damp, a wonder how the pins held, but nonetheless disappointing to the girl. Letting out a pouty huff over her disheveled appearance, she lets herself untense a little. There's nothing better for her to occupy the time with than fixing the mess. 

However, there's a person watching her that isn't as concerned about the state of her hair. Slitted pupils narrow in on the damp clothing, admiring how it clings to her luxurious body. An elongated tongue runs along pointed teeth, glossing over scaly lips. Like an apex predator, the person begins to slowly creep towards her, using the dark atmosphere as a camouflage of sorts.

She can't even release a startled gasp before a heavy hand is clamped down over her mouth. The person assaulting her forcefully pulls the petite girl backwards, essentially dragging her like a luggage full of dead weight. Before the girl can recuperate or struggle against the hold, the attacker pins her against the rough brick of a wall.

Her head collides with the concrete, resounding with a sickening crack of her skull. Whatever concussion that may have caused makes her vision blur with occasional blotches of random color. The disoriented girl tries to wriggle free from the death grip she's in, but only makes the arrival of a headache transform into an ear ringing migraine.

Through the splotches of hazy vision, the blonde takes in the features of her assaulter. A large man with what must be a mutation quirk stands at over eight feet tall. The scaley pattern of an alligator's hide makes up their skin, a dark shade of malachite glistening in the rain. A thick leather jacket and jeans make it hard to distinct the guy's age; he could be a biker or edgy teenager.

In the face of fight or flight, the girl chooses to fight. Underneath the blonde's skirt, she keeps a knife strapped just above her thigh. Carefully unsheathing it as not to draw attention to her movements, she pretends to whimper under the alligator hybrid's strong grip. Then, she lashes out with the blade, aiming for their throat. 

A shard of steel clatters across the pavement. The knife had split in two. The man's alligator hide is too thick to slice into. The blonde's eyes go wide as she realizes there's nothing she can do now. Her opponent is too strong to break free from, let alone the disorientation from hitting her head is making it hard to do much of anything in defense, and she doubts her fists or nails will be enough to harm considering a knife didn't work.

The alligator has a perturbed face, glancing between the broken weapon and the girl a few times. He then begins to chuckle, mostly in relief that the surprise attack didn't work. "You sure are naughty..", the rank breath makes the blonde's eyes water as if it was the smell of onions. A clawed finger begins to lace itself down the cardigan on her torso, popping buttons as it runs along. "I can be naughty too..", the alligator hisses in her ear as he goes to slice through another layer of clothing. The man licks his chops, the damp shirt shows an outline of the girl's black bra underneath, it's all that's left to undo for him to be filled with immense pleasure.

The blonde squirms a little, hoping to slip free, but she stops instantly when sharp talons dig into her arm. Warm liquid mixes with the cold, rain washing away blood, but all the same sloshing across her skin. It's a searing pain, a wound that will no doubt leave a scar. 

The man presses his chest against her own, condensing her breasts in a painful way. A sharp inhale from the alligator makes her rear back in reflex. Sharp teeth are bared, she's assuming the scent of blood must have triggered something in his instincts.

"That's quite the perfume, little lady.", the gator laughs at his own joke. The elongated tongue that keeps slipping free then laps up the dribbling blood. A moan elicits from the man, he presses himself against the girl a little harder. "I can barely contain myself.. Let's just get on with it..", his predatory gaze then flicks to her skirt. 

The girl lets out a muffled cry, her futile struggles now increasing tenfold as she realizes what the man is about to do. The tears brimming her eyes begin to spill, streaking down her cheeks. She's powerless to stop him as a scaly hand reaches for the skirt.

She contemplates closing her eyes, hoping that'll ease the approaching pain somewhat. However, movement from behind the gator catches her sight. Then, there's nothing but the hot sting of red splattering across her face. Specks of something warm cover her body now, as if a water balloon filled with paint just collided with her.

It's then that the girl notices the sharp object protruding from her assaulter's chest. Even though her knife had failed, something else succeeded in piercing the gator's tough hide. The man coughs, gagging on some of his own blood. Tilting his head down to stare at the wound, he lets out a bloodcurdling scream, as if he only now realized he got fatally stabbed.

The girl stares at the foreign object that tore through the man's unnatural flesh. It looks like a streak of blood frozen solid, but with a mind of its own. The tentacle whips around like a tail, showing no muscle or bone tissue to restrict its movement. It moves with a flexibility that's transparent to the flow of water, but remains firm and steady. 

Another agonized cry for help escapes the man as he gets thrusted backwards, the tentacle protruding from his chest carrying him into the sky. Then, the gator hybrid is brought back down with immense force. The forceful effort slams the man into the street, splitting cracks into the cement and leaving behind another splatter of blood. However, the onslaught doesn't stop there, the tentacle hoists the gator back up for another round of being thrashed about.

Watching the horrific display, the girl begins to quiver and falls to her knees. The man continues making a sickening wailing noise that's too distorted from gargling blood to reach beyond the block. The tentacle shows no mercy, it just keeps slashing up & down with the man as a kabob. The crater left in the road is soon filled with enough blood to make up a hot tub. 

If the man has a mutation quirk that gives him similar traits of an alligator, then he should be able to hold his breath underwater. At least, that's what one would think. When the man is forced back into the crater, he's pinned there this time. The blood stops just above the nape of his neck, cutting off any oxygen he may need. Bubbles begin popping at the surface, the weakened body of somebody that had been beaten trying to rear itself away. 

When the corpse stops resisting, three more tentacles rain down from above like they're part of the storm. The sound of flesh being torn apart somehow overlaps a clap of thunder. In the flash of light from the sky, like an angel, or perhaps a demon in this case, the owner of the tentacles drops down with grace. 

The strange appendages retreat into the person they belong to as he staggers over to the unmoving body. Dropping to his own knees, he bends down and sinks his teeth into the gator's flesh. Even with a transmutation quality, the person is still a human. Whether it counts as cannibalism or not, the gruesome tearing of teeth through meat would forever be ingrained anybody's mind that watches it. 

What's even stranger, is that the person who rescued the girl looks no older than fifteen. Despite the slim figure, it's apparent that there should be some muscle under the articles of a baggy hoodie & sweatpants. The clothes are as dark as the boy's unkempt hair, a heavy set of locks cover his left eye and leave the strange looking right one to peer out. A red iris is shrunken down to the fraction of the pupil, surrounded by a black sclera. Webbed veins crack the void, even reaching beyond the eye and stretching across the skin that borders it.

Ripping another mouthful of flesh from the corpse, the boy swallows it without bothering to chew. Like a condiment, gore surrounds his lips as if the sauce got spilt by a messy eater. 

It was just so enthralling to watch that the girl let out a piqued pant. However, the boy's ear twitched as soon as he heard it underneath the downpour of rain. Whipping his head up to spot the blonde that's gazing at him, he freezes like a deer in headlights.

The two stare at one another for what feels like a solid ten minutes. Both of them are so lowly crouched that they could look into eachother's eyes if they wanted, but the boy looks more dazed than focused. 

Perhaps it's because the blonde girl is so fixated on him with her cheshire eyes. A toothy grin and heavy blush covers her face, the freezing rain doing nothing to fade it.

"Hi! I'm Himiko Toga!", she frantically waves with both her hands like she's trying to flag down a taxi or grab a celebrity's attention. The blonde then cranes her neck forward, as if she's trying to get a better look at the boy in front of her. "What's YOUR name?!", she brings her arms to her chest in anticipation of the answer.

The boy is still looking at her with an appalled expression. Most people would have ran off screaming by now. Yet, this girl is still here, she even watched him feast on the guy's corpse. Now she's introducing herself and asking his name. Maybe that concussion is more severe than either of them could diagnose. 

Albeit reluctantly, the boy returns her greeting, "A- Akatani.. Akatani M- Mikumo."

The giddy grin on Toga's face broadens somewhat, she's pleased with her rescuer's answer. 

The boy can't help but smile in response, even if it's just a small one that nobody can see through the thick coat of falling rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for giving this story a chance; I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and stick around for more!
> 
> However, the updates on this won't be very often, I must apologize. The chapters may also be rather short in comparison to what one would expect.
> 
> It may not be what you want to hear, but I've got a little bit of reasoning.. 
> 
> First: My primary focus right now is my other story, titled 'Since That Day'. If you like Attack On Titan, I suggest you give it a look, since it draws the same concept as this in giving the main character an ability/power (quirk) from another show. 
> 
> Second: This one is a tad bit embarrassing, but I should probably be honest. This chapter is essentially all I've got to show for this thing. Sure, I have an idea or two for more, but nothing concrete that'll keep this thing going. It just felt wrong to make this a one shot though; I feel like there's a lot of potential here. So, I'd rather take my time to come up with something cool and fun than rush into it or prematurely finish. Currently, I'm wrestling with if I should stray from canon and do my own thing or just go down a traitor-esk route in U.A, but I believe that concept is used a lot, so.. we'll see.
> 
> Ultimately, I'll appreciate whatever patience you're willing to let me test to the highest limits and will attempt to maintain your interest at the same time. 
> 
> Oof, this is gonna be tough.


	2. The Coffee Shop: Anteiku

An aroma of fresh coffee grains tickles his sense of smell. The gust of wind from the air condition also holds the scent of recently baked pastries, each of them displayed behind dainty glass platters. There's the slap of shoes against tile as he walks across the rustic terracotta floor. Booths are bathed in sunlight, the reflection gleaming through the window only slightly.

Just ahead of him is a familiar face, albeit a few years to boot. The old friend has his arm raised just under the coffee shop's slow turning ceiling fan. "Toshinori!", the hand waves in a gesture to come over so they can sit together. Toshinori chooses to oblige. 

The gaunt blonde grunts as he slides into the booth, a result from the strain on his bones. If not for his sickly appearance, the groan may have been a reminder of age catching up instead. Yet, his hollow cheekbones are pulled into a soft smile regardless of those health issues. Sunken eyes meet rectangular ones, "It's good to see you, Naomasa."

Always the detective, whether he's on or off duty, Naomasa is wearing his usual attire of a tan overcoat and slacks. A matching hat is set aside, letting his short black hair breathe a little, as well as exposing a few grey strands. "It's always a pleasure.", he returns the smile before sliding a menu across the table, "Please, order something. It's on me."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose!", Toshinori tries to politely push the menu away. "The food wouldn't be very good on my stomach anyways..", he subconsciously places a hand over the left side of his chest. Beneath an oversized t-shirt, there's a gnarly cicatrix, the very cause for his health problems.

"Right.. Caffeine is probably a bad idea then..", Naomasa looks down with a pensive expression before returning his gaze to the blonde. "Would you mind a cup of tea instead?", he suggests.

The blonde nervously scratches his cheek with a forced chuckle, "I don't really have a choice.. Do I?"

"Nope.", Naomasa pops the P as he shuts the menu. 

Toshinori's laughter becomes genuine after that, the wound on his side aching a little from the wracking of such a frail body. Clutching the sore injury until the pain fades, he can't contain a few side effect wheezes. The blonde lets out a cough in order to clear his throat before asking, "As much as I'd like for this to be a simple friendly meeting, I assume there's a reason you called me here?"

"Since when do we ever skip the pleasantries, Toshinori?", Naomasa tries jesting the blonde a little more before letting himself give in to a stressed sigh, "You're right in your assumption though. I need your help on a case."

Toshinori bashfully rubs the nape of his neck, "Don't get me wrong, Naomasa. I'm flattered, truly.". He then hangs his head with a small shrug, "But.. YOU'RE the detective here. I'm not exactly the best person suited for cracking a mystery by comparison."

"Trust me, I would have gone to Aizawa for help instead if all I wanted was half baked conspiracy theories.", Naomasa leans back with a dismissive wave of his hand. "What I'm really looking for is somebody that can bring this one in for me with relative ease.", the detective taps the menu as if he's pointing at a case folder instead of an overpriced croissant. 

Toshinori muses to himself for a few seconds, nodding in understanding. Occasionally, there's a villain that the police can't handle; that's where the pro heroes come in to help. However, there's a variety of talented locals to choose from. "Why me of all options?", Toshinori has to ask.

"You KNOW why..", Naomasa fixes Toshinori with an intense stare. The blonde swallows his nerves, acknowledging the unsaid reason with a single nod. "This is a villain that's just as elusive as the hero killer, with a body count even higher. The victims are found as mangled corpses, half eaten and signs of torture completely evident.", Naomasa briefly summarizes the information necessary for Toshinori to become determined in catching the criminal.

Leaning forward in his seat, Toshinori gives the detective his complete undivided attention. "Tell me their name.."

Naomasa locks eyes with the blonde again, gazing into blue orbs of righteousness. "Everyone back at headquarters has dubbed him --", he hesitates as if the name itself is evil, "--The Tokyo Ghoul."

"Hi! I'm Mikumo Akatani; I'll be your server. Can I take your orders?", their waiter finally arrives at the table. 

Waiting there with a pen and pad in his hands is a boy with long dark hair, one emerald eye peering out while the other is covered by heavy locks. An apron loosely hangs around his waist, part of the coffee shop's standard employee uniform. A grey waistcoat over a white dress shirt and brown cravat makes the boy look more like an underage bartender though. 

"Ah, yes!", Naomasa is pleasantly startled from his cogitation, "I'd like a coffee for myself with a touch of toffee nut. As for my friend, could you please bring him your most purifying tea?"

"Of course!", the boy nods along to the order as he transcribes it to his notepad. Once he's finished writing things down, he clicks the pen with an assumed finality, "Anything else?", but still asks the question just in case.

"That'll be all.", Naomasa hands his waiter the set of menus. "Thank you.", Toshinori says it in synchronization with the detective once the boy takes them away.

Once their server leaves to place the order, the two law enforcers return to their previous discussion. "I heard from Nezu that you'll be teaching at U.A this year. If that's the case, you're the best suited person with the perfect opportunity to capture this villain.", Naomasa doesn't miss a beat with the continuation of his explanation. 

Toshinori is starting to make more sense of this meetup now. While it's true that a villain so elusive can potentially pose a threat to the majority of heroes sent to stop them, this whole thing isn't just about the case. It's not like Naomasa is asking for a big favor when Toshinori is in the local area, so that must only be an added benefit to all of this.

"Speaking of which.. Don't take this the wrong way, but I never took you for the type that would get into teaching.", Naomasa laughs as he tries to shift the subject into a more lighthearted one. 

Toshinori only manages a smile, still not being completely content with the bait & switch of the 'Tokyo Ghoul' case. "Neither did I.", the blonde shrugs as he answers honestly. 

Naomasa nods along with a knowing smile, as if he predicted that's exactly what his timely friend would say. "I'm going to assume there's an ulterior motive to why you chose to begin teaching heroics classes then.", the detective folds his hands in a sophisticated manner. When it comes to this perspicacious posture, Naomasa shows a slight relation to Nezu's pawkiness.

"I'M the one with an ulterior motive?", Toshinori raises an eyebrow in jocular recrimination. 

Naomasa sheepishly rubs the nape of his neck, trying to placate the blonde with a rueful titter. "I thought you said you aren't a detective?", he throws in a joke for extra measure before giving his apologetic confession, "I didn't arrange this JUST to discuss The Tokyo Ghoul. I also wanted to see for myself if your condition has worsened or gotten better. Since your patrols have gone down to three hours a day and you look even more disheveled from the time I saw you last.. it isn't good, is it?"

Toshinori softens his expression, body hunching in admittance. The smile that he had been trying to use as a mask slips away, a yielding frown in its place. "I'm running out of time, Naomasa..", he gives his own confession, "The real reason Nezu offered me a place to teach at U.A is to potentially help find a successor."

"I see..", Naomasa breathlessly replies. He nearly falls over, having to brace himself in the far corner on his side of the booth. Conceding to the realization that Toshinori's time as a hero is coming to an end, he almost pales more than a corpse. It's one thing to know of it, but almost near impossible for him to come to terms with.

Toshinori must notice the detective's disposition, his demeanor shifting to something somber. Once Naomasa regains some of his composure though, he's able to put on a false smile to reassure his friend. "We thought Nighteye was just being pessimistic when he tried telling us the necessities of finding a suitable successor. Now, the time has come..", he tries to keep his voice from wobbling and abruptly stops to avoid giving in.

Toshinori begins to absentmindedly pull sugar packets out of the table's condiment container. "Er, well, my sidekick and I aren't really on good speaking terms because of all that..", his hands continue to occupy themselves by lining up the sugar bags into a row that resembles a miniature train. If Toshinori anxiously playing with the tiny packets is anything to go by, he's just as unsettled by this whole predicament.

Sinking deeper into the vinyl of the booth, Naomasa finds himself feeling discouraged. "That's a shame. You two really were quite the dynamic crime fighting duo.", he and the blonde look off to the side as if that's where they'll find those forgotten days. Shaking off the dull attitude, Naomasa tries to inspire some optimism by making a suggestion. "He always liked coffee, right? Maybe bring him here to Anteiku to share a drink and hash things out.", he slaps the table for emphasis which only accomplishes the startlement of Toshinori.

The blonde gives a non committable hum, his gaze still lingering on the sugar packets strewn across the table and purposefully ignoring Naomasa's eyes. Neither side says anything more for a solid six seconds, the atmosphere turning awkward as a result. It's like the detective is waiting for the person that he's interrogating to crack, but Toshinori is too nervous to steal a glance in order to check. Giving in to his own anxiety, the blonde sighs in defeat, "You're right. I'll try inviting him here sometime.."

That must be enough to pacify the law enforcer, since he's already moving on to the next topic of conversation. "You know, it was actually my sister that told me about this place.", he holds a fond expression as he looks around the charmingly quaint cafe.

Toshinori smiles now that they're on a subject that he can get behind. Discussing family with his friends always brings warm feelings, which is much needed after the prior conversation. "Speaking of which, how is Makoto doing these days?", he decides to ask.

Naomasa snorts, "As rebellious as always.", which gains a chuckle out of Toshinori. "But.. She's doing really good for herself. She actually graduated from college not too long ago with both a bachelor's and master's degree.", he proudly proclaims.

"That's wonderful news! I'm so glad to hear it!", Toshinori fixes his posture as he conveys his excitement for Naomasa, "I've always known that she's a bright one."

"Oh, you have no idea how many times she's come close to figuring out your secret all on her own.", Toshinori gives a nervous chuckle in response to that news while Naomasa simply carries on with his own laughter.

Their waiter returns to the table with a tray then. "One coffee with toffee nut.", Akatani Mikumo places the mug in front of Naomasa, "Careful. It's still hot.", he warns. Then there's a cup of tea that's slided over to Toshinori, "And I made sure to consult a few others to find our best option for you. I hope you like Barley."

"I love Barley Tea. Thank you.", Toshinori slightly bows his head in appreciation. Wrapping his frail fingers around the cup, the blonde brings it to his lips to take a sip.

"If there's anything else that you need, don't hesitate to ask.", the waiter flashes his customers an earnest smile before carrying the tray back towards the kitchen.

"On the other hand, it's probably better to have a variety of candidates to choose from. This is a big decision after all, and you can't just pass the mantle on to the first kindhearted kid you see.", Naomasa refers to their earlier conversation about Toshinori's successor and U.A. 

The blonde shys away, curious as to if the detective has some sort of observational skill that may have given away his thoughts about their waiter being a nice person. "I wouldn't be as brash to do something like that..", Toshinori isn't entirely sure if he's trying to convince himself or his friend anymore.

Naomasa is too busy gently blowing on his coffee to cool it off rather than to be observational, allowing the blonde to breathe a sigh of relief. "Have you reached your limit for the day or are you still planning on patrolling later?", Naomasa asks before taking a small sip of java from the mug. 

Toshinori stops just short of taking a sip from his own drink to respond, "I've still got about two hours left that I plan on using.", he lowers the cup only slightly to get a better view of Naomasa, "What's up? Did you need my help with something?", he wonders.

Naomasa waves in an allayed manner, "Nothing urgent enough to keep you from your patrol as a hero.", he pauses to take another sip of coffee before continuing, "I was only going to invite you to swing by the station so we can go over the Tokyo Ghoul case. It can wait until tomorrow though, I've got other paperwork to finish anyways."

"Ah, alright. That works for me.", Toshinori nods in agreement.

Suddenly, the muffled noise of sirens starts to draw near. Toshinori and Naomasa turn their heads in time to watch a set of police vehicles zoom by the window in some sort of high speed pursuit. All it takes is one shared look between the two law enforcers and they're both giving mutual nods of understanding.

"Next time, I'll cover the check.", Toshinori promises before he downs the last of his tea.

"Just go.", Naomasa smirks as he watches his friend briskly head towards the cafe's exit.

Once the blonde steps foot outdoors, he glances each way to make sure nobody is watching him. Then, the frail form of a skeleton morphs into that of a bodybuilder. Steam generates from the solid muscles of a hero, a triumphant rictus grin etched across his face. 

The shift in mass isn't very hard to miss, especially when what's left behind is acknowledged by all of Japan as the number one hero. "Waahh! It's All Might!", a teenage fangirl shrieks with glee. The mightiful man bellows out a boisterous laugh at the awed reactions of pedestrians before launching himself into the sky with a powerful leap.

Watching his friend soar over dozens of skyscrapers, Naomasa can't help but deflate somewhat. Pretty soon, that sight overhead won't be there anymore. When All Might retires, it'll be the end of an entire era. Not only is Toshinori recognized as the highest hero in rankings, but he's considered to be a literal symbol of peace. The hero always wears a massive smile in the face of danger, assuring everybody that everything will turn out okay. Good will always triumph when All Might is there.. So, what about when he's gone?

The detective is shaken from his musings by the loud clang of a tray clattering against the tiled floor. Glasses shatter from the impact as well, water and coffee alike spilling everywhere amok the mess. Standing at the center of it all is the one responsible, the young waiter named Akatani Mikumo. The boy's mouth is hung open, undoubtedly gawking at the receding back of All Might. 

Snapping out of his rumination, he begins to profusely apologize. "Sorry everybody! I'm sorry!", he repeats it like a broken record while hastily picking up the shards of glass. What must be a co-worker rushes over with a cloth to wipe up the spilled beverages.

Naomasa chuckles to himself, appreciating what might be one of the last times he sees a kid geek out so hard over All Might. The show alone is enough of a reason to leave behind a bigger tip than usual.

Placing the grey fedora on his head, Naomasa prepares to take the coffee to-go. As he slides out of the booth, he leaves behind some yen.

As the day goes on, nearly every customer follows suite. Some tips are hefty while others are low, but business is booming, especially after word got around on social media that All Might 'passed by'. 

When the sun sets though, and day turns to dusk, the coffee shop finally closes. Akatani has the responsibility of sweeping and shutting things down for his shift though. So, after hours, he remains as the sole worker to clean everything. 

As he idly sweeps some stray crumbs into a dustpan, there's a sudden tapping at the door. Akatani sets the broom aside, glancing to see who's knocking. Peering through the glass is the girl that he had met the previous night. She looks like she's still wearing her school uniform and her hair is tied into messy buns just like last time.

Akatani flips the lock so he can open the door for her. Stepping into the coffee house, the girl lets out an impressed whistle. "Anteiku, huh?", she plops herself down into the nearest booth. 

"If you're curious about the name, the manager wouldn't even tell me why it's called that.", Akatani locks the door again to ensure no late night customers try to get a last minute order in.

The blonde shrugs with no sincere interest, "Not really what I meant.. I was just wondering why you decided to bother working here.", she even starts drumming her fingers against the table in boredom.

"It has its benefits, such as free coffee, which does wonders for my quirk.", Akatani pays her no mind until he finishes setting up the brewer, "Would you care for any?"

"Nah. Caffeine isn't really good for my complexion.", she bats her eyelashes in a teasing manner. Akatani just turns away from her, hiding the small blush that's dusting his cheeks. "So, why is coffee so good for your quirk? Is that what those tentacle things are made of?", she bounces in her seat with eagerness for an answer.

Making his way to the booth so he can sit across from her, Akatani shakes his head with a dry laugh. "I wish it were something that simple..", he doesn't even try to plug up the leak of depression in his tone, "I wouldn't wanna scare you off, but I guess you've already seen what I really am."

Himiko Toga twirls a lock of her blonde hair, "It'd be pretty rude of me to run away from the person that saved my.. well, ya know.", the natural blush on her face darkens a little bit. She ends up pulling her legs close to her chest so she can wrap her arms around the knees. "Besides, I really want to get to know you. I think it'd be super cool to be like you.", she flashes a toothy grin.

"Well.. Alright. Don't say I didn't warn you.", Akatani rubs the back of his neck with lingering hesitation. "I guess you could consider it as a drawback; my quirk makes it so I can only eat.. h- human flesh..", the boy flinches as he reluctantly finishes the end of his sentence. 

The blonde tilts her head in confusion at the action, but it soon starts to sink in that most people would likely judge him at that point. Thoughts of bullies calling him cruel names and possibly even beating him over it crosses her mind. Any ordinary person would run away screaming, not even giving the poor kid a chance to show his true personality. 

"Hey.. It's okay..", the soothing words feel strange on her tongue but she feels obligated to say them. "I got a lot of ridicule for my quirk too. I won't judge you.", she reassures him.

Akatani's one visible eye widens at that news, clearly surprised to hear the confession of her relatability. "Y- Your quirk?", he stammers out what must be a desperate question to hear more about it.

Raising one pointer finger and wagging it back & forth, Himiko tuts in a teasing manner. "You're supposed to tell me about YOUR quirk first. Remember?", she giggles at his instinct to shyly turn away; it'd be a cute reflex if it weren't for the reason why he has it.

"Uh.. Besides human meat, I can have coffee. It doesn't completely satisfy my hunger though.. Believe me, I tried. I still try..", he solemnly hangs his head as he finishes explaining the details of his unique taste buds.

"Yeah, the bags under your eyes -- Oops! I mean EYE -- make that obvious.", she jokingly covers half her own face with a hand. Akatani doesn't have the reaction she was hoping for; he doesn't look offended, per say, but he doesn't laugh either. "You make it work though!", she adds as an afterthought to save him from feeling embarrassed since he seems like that type.

"Thanks..", she hears him say it even though it's a low mumble. 

"What about those tentacle things then?", she then catches his gaze with her own, "Oh! That's right! Your eye was really weird too!", she can't contain her elation as she leans forward to get a closer look.

Receding just a bit at the sudden lunge, Akatani self consciously places a hand over his eye. "Oh.. That's just another side effect of my quirk.", he recovers as he realizes she's just genuinely curious about it, "W- Whenever I'm hungry or excited o- or.. It just happens. I call it my kakugan."

"Can you summon it on your own?", she leans forward more with piqued interest.

Slowly pulling his hand away so that she can see, Akatani slowly nods. "Y- Yeah..", the red iris glows at the center of a black sclera just like the last time she saw it. What excites her most about seeing it again though, are the veins that branch out like shattered glass.

"Wow..", she gasps in awe before falling back with a squeal, "That looks so cool!"

Akatani chuckles with a small smile that has the potential to melt Himiko's heart. "That's probably the first time anybody ever said that to me..", he catches her eye with his own, "Thank you."

Himiko feels her face heat up more than usual, forcing her to turn away from him. "W- What about the tentacles?! You never told me about those!", she whines in the hope that he'll be too distracted by the question to notice her fierce blush.

"Oh, right!", he jumps in his seat as if he's suddenly reminded, "I call it my Kagune. It's made out of my Rc Cells, which is why they're as flexible as ordinary blood cells, but strong enough to fight with.", he begins to mutter while trying to explain it as simply as possible.

Himiko nods along like she can understand every word until he suddenly realizes that he's still murmuring nonsense. A heavy blush settles over his face as he clamps two hands over his mouth. Himiko can't suppress the laugh that breaks through her lips like water crashing through a dam. Akatani looks down at his lap with a pout, "You should've stopped me."

"Why would I?", she heaves in between giggle fits, "It was just too cute!"

Akatani practically has steam coming out of his ears at this point. Fortunately for him, he's saved by the beeping of the coffee brewer, an indication that it's finally ready. Hastily climbing out of the booth so she doesn't see how red his face is, he starts to stammer out his own diversion, "It's your turn now! Tell me about YOUR quirk!"

"Oh..", Himiko abruptly stops laughing as she starts to deflate with her own embarrassment. "I didn't think you would actually want to know..", she mumbles so Akatani doesn't hear it.

"Hm?", the boy throws her a brief glance as he pours himself a cup of coffee, "I didn't catch that."

Shaking herself from her self inflicted brooding, she puts on a smile that would make some people assume she's the illegitimate daughter of All Might. "My quirk allows me to turn into other people!", she summarizes it to the best of her abilities.

"Whoa, really?!", Akatani nearly trips over himself as he spins around to see if she's just joshing him. "That's so cool! How does it work? Do you get their quirks too? Does it only work if you turn into a girl or does it work with boys too? How does it activate?", he starts spewing questions like rapid fire before lighting up as if he just had an epiphany, "Do you mind if I write all of this down?"

Himiko stares at the boy in bewilderment. It's almost like his personality just did a one eighty; he went from a sulking emo to an overly excited dork. Not only that, but this is the first time that somebody showed such genuine interest in her quirk. Akatani just looks so enthusiastic about it that she doesn't have the heart to say anything other than, "I don't mind!"

Realizing that he just geeked out over her quirk, he does a reclusive action similar to when he caught himself muttering paragraphs. "Awesome. Thanks.", he tries to passively play it off while grabbing a notebook that's stashed under the cashier's counter. 

Himiko instantly notices that the journal has some serious damage. The binder looks singed and some of the pages are sticking out as though they were torn apart at some point. Despite the condition of the book though, she can also tell that he takes it seriously since there's a label all the way at number thirteen. 

Flipping through some seared pages, he eventually lands on a blank one. Setting his cup of coffee aside, he clicks a pen and looks at her with eager anticipation. 

"Like your quirk, most people shun me for how its used.", she reminds him before continuing, "I need a person's blood so I can drink it; I then look and sound just like them. I only use it on people that I really really like though!"

Akatani glances up from his notebook at that last part, still writing detailed descriptions from what little information she gave him. "That's amazing..", he exhales in awe, "You would be perfect for stealth missions, whether it's as a hero or some sort of spy in the FBI!"

Himiko's mouth starts to slowly slide open. Nobody had ever told her she can work as a law officer, let alone a HERO. She doesn't know whether to be flattered or angry, she's still too shocked. Instead, she asks, "D- Do you really mean it?"

Nodding enthusiastically, he only piles on more crazy compliments. "There's so much potential for what you can do with your quirk! If there was some sort of assassination target, you could disguise yourself and set up the perfect ploy. If disguising as somebody else comes with any other perks, you could catch your opponent by surprise in a fight as well!", he then gasps with worry, "A- Are you crying?"

Himiko lets out a startled gasp too, bringing a hand to her cheek where she feels a warm stream of tears. "I.. I..", wiping the water away with the sleeve of her cardigan, she profusely shakes her head. "I'm just surprised you can be so sappy!", she jokes with a laugh to boot.

Laughing along, even if it's somewhat forced, Akatani slowly relaxes. "I sometimes forget that's still a part of me too..", he lets out a distant sigh, "It's probably from my mom's side."

Himiko tilts her head like a kitten trying to figure out why he looks so sad. "How does SHE feel about your quirk?", the blonde warily asks since that may be the cause.

Akatani's smile quickly vanishes, replaced by a woeful frown. Instantly, Himiko jumps to wave her hands in an apologetic gesture. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!", she shouts with the anxiety that he may be too upset with her to keep talking. 

"N- No! It's okay. That's not it..", Akatani shifts his gaze to the notebook that's in front of him. "This was actually really nice. It feels good to talk about my quirk with someone and to hear about their's without any kind of ridicule.", he runs a hand along the journal before shutting it. "The last time I got to experience something like that was with my mom, actually.", he continues staring at it like it's a picture of her though.

Himiko nervously rubs her elbow, thankful that he isn't looking at her as she asks, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Akatani looks contemplative for a moment before he closes his eyes with a sigh, "No. Sorry."

Himiko nods in understanding before snapping her fingers with a grin, "We can always get out of here and do something fun to forget about it instead!"

Akatani takes a sip of his coffee before shaking his head, "Not tonight.. Sorry."

Himiko pouts, feeling although she just backpedaled and lost all the progress of befriending the boy. She doesn't want to sound desperate, but she still decides to use a final question as her last resort, "What about tomorrow?"

Akatani taps his chin as if he's mulling over some plans before shrugging, "I could probably do something after work. Meet up here? Same time; same place?"

Himiko feels relief wash over her with the breeze of the building's air condition. "Perfect! It's a date, then!", she shoots up from her seat with excitement.

"D- Date?", Akatani looks like he just blew a fuse or something. Due to the computer crash of his mind, he isn't able to register her leaving the coffee shop until she's already gone.

His head hits the table, eliciting a groan from him despite the smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I'm blown away by all the positive feedback from just one chapter! The bookmarks and kudos rivaled that of 'Since That Day' in one fatal swoop and your comments are all just so heartwarmingly kind! Thank you, everyone! 
> 
> I was going to address a particular comment personally, but I assume it's something that other readers will ask at some point. So, there aren't any other ghouls, it's just Izuku/Akatani's personal quirk. While I may bring in some elements such as Anteiku in this chapter, it's just an ordinary coffee house. 
> 
> I just sorta feel that keeping the stakes a little lowered is better than making them grand scale. If a situation gets TOO out of hand (such as world conquering) then you somewhat already know things will eventually get resolved. However, if it's more of an internal matter or street level, then everything is fair game in terms of what cataclysm could strike.
> 
> I just hope that I can keep this up since writing Himiko was actually pretty difficult. I wanted to keep that craziness about her character so it wouldn't become a misinterpretation, but I can't go all out with it until later chapters. I was sorta thinking of it in a pacified sense as to how a stalker would lure in their prey by acting normal while that psycho side slips through the cracks occasionally. 
> 
> Writing Akatani also felt like it would become a slight OC, and I wanted to avoid that somewhat. So, I decided to sprinkle in some of that Izukuness to show that he's still that pure boy underneath whatever new identity he created for himself. My personal inspiration for that could be considered his theme song, I just listened to 'To give life to a Marionette' from the HxH soundtrack. The first half with the piano and guitar, the dark & somber mood, is Akatani. Then, that sorrowful violin is like the remains of Izuku trying to hold on.
> 
> I dunno, maybe I'm overthinking all of this. All I know is that I'm having fun and I hope you are too. Especially now that I have some interesting stuff planned for the next few chapters.


	3. An Ordinary Date: Doves

The night's cool breeze whips his face as he steps outside, almost like walking straight into a spider's web. To help bite back the cold nipping at him, Akatani takes a sip from the to-go cup that he filled with coffee on the way out. The heated contrast is almost enough to burn his tongue that had been nearly smitten with frostbite. 

The bell above the entrance jingles as he squeezes through the opening. Akatani then shuts the door, watching to see if it closes completely. With his free hand, he turns the key in order to lock it. Once he hears the familiar click that comes with the twist, Akatani slips the key back into his pocket.

Waiting out front with her hair tied back into two messy blonde buns and the usual school uniform, is Himiko Toga. She gives him her trademark pointy toothed grin with a small friendly wave in greeting. "Hey Akatani-Kun!", a light blush dusts her cheeks as she says his name.

Akatani returns her grin with a small smile and slight nod. He takes another sip from his coffee cup before replying with, "Hey Toga."

The petite blonde gives him a playful pout while tilting her head to the side, "You're gonna hurt my feelings. We're friends; aren't we?", she continues after seeing his face take on a worried expression, "Friends refer to eachother by their first names. Don't they?"

Matching the same tint of red that the girl has on her cheeks, Akatani nervously turns away. "S- Sorry, Himiko. I don't have very many friends, so I didn't really know..", he then awkwardly shuffles his feet before asking, "So.. What did you wanna do?"

Treading down the sidewalk with a single skip, she happily answers the question. "I was thinking you might need a disguise, Mister Tokyo Ghoul; I'm gonna take you to my friend's mask shop!", she glances over her shoulder to see Akatani scramble after her while trying not to spill any of his coffee.

"W- Well, I never really had a problem with hiding my face since..", Akatani tries to stammer out his best attempt at a polite way of turning down the offer, "..nobody ever survived to tell anyone..", but starts to mumble when he realizes what he said was practically a confession of murder. 

Himiko keeps skipping down the sidewalk; perhaps she didn't hear the last part or she simply doesn't care. "What about the people that you save?", she asks instead. "What about the ones like me?", she gives him a teasing flutter of her eyelashes.

Akatani bashfully rubs the back of his neck with a small huff of laughter, "They usually run away before they can get a good look."

Himiko hums a little before giving him a small shrug, "You can never be too careful!". She then grabs the hand that isn't holding onto a coffee cup and drags him forward, "Come on! At least give it a chance!"

The boy doesn't manage to utter a single syllable as he stares at the feminine hands that are gripping his own. The cool touch makes him self aware of the heat rising to his face. Akatani tries hiding his blush with the coffee cup by drinking out of it some more. 

The empty street block is filled with the teenage girl's laughter as she forces him to keep pace. Air breezes by them, the two briskly cutting corners. The light pat of Himiko's shoes on the pavement play along to the tune of Akatani's heavy sneaker thuds. 

Akatani runs alongside her a while longer before asking, "H- How far is this place?", his voice is nearly drowned out by her joyous giggling.

"We'll get there faster if we take this shortcut!", she suddenly yanks him in another direction. Akatani almost trips over the sidewalk's curb as she pulls him away from the street. The two tread up a small hill of grass, coming upon a long chain link fence. "It should be somewhere..", Himiko briefly slows down to survey the gate before jumping with glee, "Aha! Right here!"

Akatani hesitates as she peels back a loose section of the fence. The torn piece looks like it was dug under by a dog and then popped loose by what must have been the animal trying to squeeze through. After what might have been a few times of Himiko lifting it up more, the gate must have gotten looser. Akatani glances around to see if there are any private property signs or witnesses before following the blonde through the small gap. 

Once they cross to the otherside, the duo must venture into a small patch of trees and bushes. Eventually, Akatani is able to spot a clearing. There's a small stone path that's dimly lit by a lamppost, a park bench underneath it. Himiko shows no shame in plucking a flower from a miniature garden, sniffing the plant like it's a freshly baked pie. Akatani has to fight the instinct to flinch back when she thrusts the flower into his face, "I love their garden! Doesn't it smell so good?", she asks him.

Akatani gently pushes the flower away from his nose, nervously chuckling as he glances around. It starts to sink in that they're in the city's public park; however, the park is closed at this hour of the night, hence why Himiko had them sneak in. Almost like she can sense his thoughts, she waves him onward with a little reassurance. "It's just a little further. We'll cut through the park and then it's just up ahead.", her cat-like eyes catch Akatani's emerald eye and it's almost like a form of hypnotism.

Taking a sip of his coffee like it's liquid courage, Akatani gives her a single nod. "Alright. Lead the way.", his feet are already moving before his voice can catch up. Himiko's cheshire grin matches her eyes as she begins skipping again.

"We should come back here when they're open and go for a stroll.", Himiko takes in the aroma from another patch of flowers while making the absent minded suggestion.

Akatani gives her a noncommittal shrug before realizing she isn't facing his direction. "Maybe..", he mumbles before clearing his throat, "I mean.. If you'd like too."

"Nah!", one of her lighthearted laughs makes Akatani's heart swoon a little. "Parks are too sappy!", a teasing tone then laces her voice as she adds, "That's why I figured YOU'D like it.". She spreads her arms while spinning like she's presenting the place, "It's pretty but so boring!", she stops to giggle & grin at the boy, "Not that YOU'RE boring or anything, Akatani-kun."

"Breaking and entering is boring?", the question is more or less meant to be rhetorical as a way to jest her back. "You'll need to show me something fun one of these nights then.", he finishes off the last of his java before tossing the cup into a garbage bin that they're passing.

"We're just getting started, Akatani-kun. Have a little faith in me!", she raises her pointer finger as if it's some sort of declaration before aiming it at another patch of trees. The blonde diverges from the path as she asks, "Have you ever hopped a fence before?"

"Uuuhh..", Akatani drawls a little as he thinks back to times that he's scaled entire buildings, "I think I'll manage.". Himiko must pick up on the hint of amusement in his tone, since her grin holds some humor in it too.

The two step through overgrown grass that needs to be mowed and weeds that need to be plucked. Then, they come across the metal fence that surrounds the property. Himiko steps forward first, placing her foot in one of the small holes that makes a rung for her to climb on. However, she pauses for a moment as if she's hesitant, and looks back at Akatani.

"Don't look up my skirt.", Himiko holds no real reproach in her statement as she pokes fun at the boy. However, she does find some pleasure in seeing how flustered he can get while spinning around to avoid any discomfort. Even though it's cruel to torment him any further, she still adds one last remark, "Or.. Don't get caught looking.", even adding a wink regardless of if he can see it or not.

Himiko can't suppress a tiny giggle when she hears Akatani groan in embarrassment from behind her. After she clears the fence and lands on the other side with a soft smack of her shoes, the blonde turns around to let him know. "You can look now. As a matter of fact, it's your turn.", she tries beckoning him over.

Akatani doesn't budge, he refuses to turn around. "I- Is this some sorta t- trick to make me look up your s- skirt?", he nervously stutters. 

Himiko crosses her arms with a small huff, slightly disappointed that she hadn't come up with such an idea on her own. "You'll just have to peak and find out.", her mischievous side pokes through before she spins on her heel to leave, "Otherwise, I'm going without you."

Cautiously tilting his head, Akatani slowly turns it so he can see behind him. He must have been holding his breath, because there's an exhale of relief when all he sees is Himiko's receding back from the other side of the fence. "H- Hey! Wait up!", it then dons on him that he needs to chase after her and scrambles to climb the gate too.

"Took you long enough.", Himiko rolls her eyes as the boy jogs up from behind her. The duo start crossing a bridge that only has two or three cars passing by at a time. 

"I didn't know what to expect! You're too unpredictable!", Akatani tries to defend himself and the actions that he chose.

Himiko doesn't let up on her teasing as she lightly pokes him in the chest, "And YOU'RE almost TOO predictable. If all it takes to get you hot and bothered are words, then--"

Akatani covers his ears with his hands, "La la la! Not listening!", he shakes his head like whatever words did manage to get in will somehow get past the barriers that his hands created.

Himiko playfully shoves his shoulder and the two break into a small fit of laughter. "Well, it's your lucky day to avoid this conversation, cause' we finally made it.", she then announces their arrival at the mask shop. 

The store would have been easy to miss without Himiko's directions. Among apartment buildings and the occasional supermarket or diner, a small structure made from brick looks to be tucked away in something of a small alley. The only sign of it not being vacant are the glass door and glowing 'OPEN' signal that's above it. 

The interior proves to be vastly different from the exterior though. Nyan lamps light up what looks like something a fashion designer put together. Several masks are out on display like it's an art show, some of them are even covered by tarps or kept in glass cases. 

As he strolls down the isle, Akatani takes note of a plain white mask whose only variation are the occasional holes poked in it like a hockey mask would have. There also appears to be a cowl with pointed rubber ears and an equally sharp nose; it leaves a space open for the mouth and has white lens where the eyes should be. 

"Uta-San, where are you hiding at this time?", Himiko starts trailing off to find what Akatani assumes to be the owner of the shop. Rather than follow the blonde, he continues browsing the selection.

Akatani comes across a red one that's laced in what looks like a webbing design, the only diversion being the strange white spots that must be some sort of lens. However, his eyes are drawn from there to a white tarp that must be covering something considered to be a masterpiece. His curiosity getting the better of him, Akatani pulls it away. 

"Oh..", his reflex to shout in surprise and instinct to defend or fight makes Akatani settle on this dull reaction to an actual person being beneath the cloth. The man doesn't seem to be phased by their abrupt meeting either.

"Yo.", he then stands up, revealing just how tall and lanky he is. Dark hair like Akatani's is styled into an undercut, surrounded by piercings on his face that varies from lip to eyebrow and ear. Tattoos cover his exposed arms, there's enough to make sleeves themselves. 

"Uta-San!", Himiko rushes over as soon as she notices him and wraps her arms around his waist for a hug. The stylist doesn't seem to care as she crushes him like a teddy bear, remaining as stiff as a board until she lets go. "What are you doing?", the blonde asks once she steps back.

"I thought I'd try to scare your friend.", Uta points a lazy finger at Akatani like his wrist is shackled down by a set of heavy chains. The rest of his fingers then unravel as he holds out his hand, "I'm Uta, by the way.."

Akatani returns the gesture, shaking the man's hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm Akatani Mikumo.", a speculative brow raises when Uta leans in to get a closer look. 

"I apologize if I'm making you uncomfortable, this part is a little necessary though..", Uta doesn't fully regard the boy even though he means to speak directly to him. The mask designer tilts his head as his eyes skim Akatani's face, his neck craning a little so he can take in all the features.

"E- Excuse me?", Akatani scrunches up his face in confusion as Uta's cheek nearly touches his own. 

"It's part of his quirk.", Himiko starts to explain as she sways back and forth on her heels, "Uta can take in every detail of something if he looks close enough. It's how he makes his masks for everyone."

"It's hard to put into words, but yes, thank you Himiko.", Uta nods along as he swaps to the other side of Akatani's face. From the corner of his exposed eye, Akatani sees Uta's hand flinch as though it wants to part his hanging hair. "May I?", the designer surprisingly asks for permission first. Akatani shrugs and Uta takes that as a yes, carefully lifting the dark locks. Himiko stops swaying on her heels, leaning forward completely now to get her own glimpse of what's underneath. There's only another emerald iris. "Hm.. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I'll admit that I'm mildly disappointed..", he lets the strands of hair fall back into place.

Uta then waves Akatani over to a stool, patting the empty seat as a gesture for him to sit down. "Let's get started then.", he waits for the boy to follow before adding, "Firstly.. A few questions. Do you have any allergies? Perhaps to rubbers or metals?"

"Not that I'm aware of.", Akatani shrugs as he tries to think of anything notable and comes up empty.

"Do you want a full faced one? I personally find beginners prefer to have half-faced ones for their first time.", Uta taps a finger against his chin as he mulls over his customer's appearance one last time.

Akatani has to resist the urge to shrug again, instead opting for a soft hum. "I'll leave it to you to decide.", he replies before noticing the strange mask that's on the crafter's table nearby. Surrounded by tools such as scissors and pins or needles, lays a magenta mouthpiece that's shaped like a beak. "What about that one?", Akatani nudges his head in that direction for Uta to look.

"Ah, that's for another one of my clients. There's actually a whole assembly line of those for him and his friends. Were you interested in one like that?", Uta glances between the mouthguard and Akatani's chin.

Akatani regards it for a moment before shaking his head, "I'd rather not look like a cockatoo.", he then jumps in his seat at the realization that his remark might upset the designer, "No offense."

Uta chuckles instead, with his own small headshake. "No offense taken. The design choice was mostly his idea anyway. A 'plague' mask..", the designer rolls his eyes like the thought of it alone is silly, "How pretentious."

Uta works his way around Akatani, grabbing the clump of hair that covers an eye again and weighing it in his hand. "Hmm.. I didn't really care for this particular style at first, but it suits you. It gives me an idea..", Akatani peers up at him as he waits to hear more but the designer appears to be too fixated on the hair to notice until later, "Oh! Pardon me. I was just thinking aloud."

Akatani feels a small smile tug at the corners of his lips, but it quickly subsides. "I can relate.", he admits while glancing at Himiko to see if she's listening in or not. The blonde got to experience that side of him firsthand back at Anteiku, a side of him that he thought had been long forgotten.

Uta hums a short tune as he dons a pencil & notepad to write in. "Interesting.. That makes me wonder what else I should ask you..", he nibbles the eraser side before using it to point at Akatani, "Mikumo-Kun, do you happen to have any lovers?"

That particular question seems to break whatever social barrier the boy had put up. "Wha?!", he jumps in his seat, almost knocking the stool and himself over. "No.. I've never had one..", the recovery holds a shyness to it that only interests Uta even further.

"I see.. Could it be that you find girls younger than you cuter than the same age? Or is it the other way around? Could it be that you like older girls instead?", if not for the genuine curiosity made evident by Uta, one would think this were an interrogation.

"Um.. I guess if our ages are close, then it doesn't really matter?", Akatani holds an uncertainty as he tries to stammer out a proper response. "C- Can I ask YOU something, Uta-San?", he peers at the designer from the corner of his eye.

"YOU ask ME something?", Uta's eyes widen as if he just saw a new color for the first time, "Now THAT'S interesting. Please, go ahead."

"W- Well..", Akatani turns away with the concern that his question may disappoint the designer, "I was just w- wondering.. is there a connection to these questions and making a mask?"

"Very much so.", Uta nods like it's common knowledge before elaborating, "The more that I know about you and your personality, the greater my motivation will be."

"Oh..", Akatani lifts his head up in understanding, "That makes sense."

Uta then cranes his neck with a burst of excitement, his nose just mere centimeters from Akatani's. As if he just had the epiphany, he asks, "What about Himiko?! Do you think she's cute?"

Akatani feels his face flush red and instinctively covers it with his arms, "Can we not talk about girls anymore?", he pleads while peaking through his sleeves to see if Himiko happened to hear what had been asked. The blonde appears to be in her own little world, browsing the masks on display a few feet away, which allows some comforting relief.

Uta gets behind Akatani, a smirk on his face, "I think I understand you now, Mikumo-Kun. You're a person with a lot on their mind..", he strolls back around to the opposite side so Akatani can see him again. "..But you don't have very much to say.. Do you?", he mimes an invisible zipper being closed across his lips and tosses the equally invisible key.

Akatani is about to make some sort of retort, but stops short and slowly nods in agreement. "Yeah.. I guess you're right.", his admittance isn't very enthusiastic though.

"Well.. In any case, I believe I have everything I need.", Uta begins shooing Akatani off of the stool, "I'll need a few days to work on the mask. You two kids go have some fun and come back during the weekend."

"O- Oh, okay.. Thank you, Uta-San.", Akatani staggers a little as he's ushered towards the exit. Once there, he gives a small bow in appreciation.

"Bye, Uta-Saannn!", Himiko drags his name out as she waves to him on her way out.

Akatani pauses once he notices a vending machine and makes his way over to it. There's a canned coffee that he selects with a hot or cold selection, he chooses the hot coffee. As the canned beverage drops into the compartment below for him to take, Himiko skips on over.

"So, what'd you think?", she asks him while tucking her arms behind her back. 

"It was cool.", Akatani pops the lid open so he can take a sip, "Thanks for taking me."

Himiko points an accusing finger up at him, "Told you sooo!", her taunting is followed by the usual laughter that Akatani has come to enjoy hearing.

The two then carry on into a leisurely stroll down the sidewalk, with no particular destination in mind. "We'll call it a draw.", he turns the next corner so she doesn't see the small smile he has from teasing her back.

"That's no fair, Akatani-Kun!", she protests like a kid throwing a temper tantrum, by hopping up & down while waving her arms in an exaggerated manner. "I won fair and square! Just admit it!", she huffs and puffs.

"Alright, alright..", he shakes his head since that sortof display was his breaking point. A grin etches across his face as he looks at her, "But consider this payback for back at the fence."

Himiko looks baffled at first, but almost instantly mimics his toothy smile. "You'll need to try better than that to get one over on me.", she quickens her pace as if putting a short distance between them will give her the last word.

"Oh, come on, I had you completely fooled!", Akatani chases after her with a bemused laugh. 

"In your dreams!", she lightly shoves him once he draws near, "It's probably where you get to see up my skirt too--"

"Okay, I'm not going to go there!", Akatani raises both his arms as a sign of surrender. One hand lays flat to show his palm while the other continues to cling to his canned coffee.

"Too easy.", Himiko keeps a victorious grin on her face. The way she struts next to him is almost too sly, but it's mostly meant as a form of mockery. 

The two then fall into a comfortable silence as Akatani drinks from his can of coffee. The bitter sensation on his tongue is vaguely familiar to the blood that drains from biting into a person's flesh. While that particular similarity is unsettling to him, it's better than the alternative when it comes to his opinion on the matter. However, that may vary. It isn't just when his hunger overtakes him that he enjoys feasting on a corpse, but the occasional times where he's exhilarated by the capability of ripping into a criminal. Even if the person is a villain, he can't help but get disgusted with himself for feeling that way. It's like whatever humanity remained inside of him started slipping away. He never told Himiko the second reason for working at Anteiku, to remain as a member of civilization, to remain human. He doesn't have to though.. since he feels the most human when he's with her, and the best part is she knows about his quirk to understand that unspoken matter.

"By the way, I heard All Might is in the neighborhood.", Himiko snaps him out of his musings by mentioning the symbol of peace. As if the hero's name itself is a trigger word, Akatani practically freezes in place, his body stiffening like he was caught red handed during a crime. "Akatani-Kun..?", Himiko slows to a stop as she realizes that he's come to a halt. 

"Himiko.. What do you think of All Might?", he avoids eye contact with her as he asks the question. The inquiry isn't nessicarly meant to be a test for her, but that's how it feels for both of them when it comes to whatever answer gets given.

The blonde's smile wavers a little, as if she's saddened by whatever thoughts get accumulated in her own head. "What do YOU think of All Might?", she throws Akatani's own question back at him instead of answering it herself.

Akatani stares at the canned coffee in his hand as if it had personally offended him, his grip tightening just enough to crush the metal a tad. "I used to adore heroes.. ESPECIALLY All Might.", the boy scoffs with a feigned laugh, "I guess there isn't a kid that would think otherwise."

"D- Do you not like heroes anymore, Akatani?", Himiko hesitantly asks him as she moves closer. She's like a child hearing a bedtime story for the first time, her attention completely devoted to the boy's response.

The blonde flinches when he raises his head up, but the gaze misses her completely and focuses on the sky above them. Like he's staring up at All Might himself, his eyes glimmer in the pale moonlight as if tears are bound to be shed. "Heroes are a lot like doves..", Himiko tilts her head as she tries to understand what he's saying, "Doves soar over everybody. They fly above the people on the ground who continuously look up at them with admiration. Doves.. they're symbols of peace too. Why? These birds, they look the part of an angel, but they don't do anything. Nobody looks at them the same as a vulture or a buzzard since those birds are considered disgusting. Just because those animals rip into what's on the ground, what everyone refuses to see on the ground, they're considered ugly too. Personally.. I think the bird that's willing to come down from its flight shows more bravery as a hero..."

Himiko recalls the time that she found a wounded dove. A toddler stumbling across the bird that broke its wing; the little girl taking it so she can nurse it back to health. The dove was so pretty, so cute. Just like Akatani said, she sank her fangs into it like a vulture and got ridiculed like she was something disgusting.

Slowly, the blonde takes his free hand. Her fingers interlock with his, her soft & cool skin pressing against his rough & warm palm. Akatani's head whips down in surprise to see it, the surprise making him swallow something dry. Himiko continues holding his hand since he doesn't say or do anything to protest. 

Unlike the first time that she guided him this way, she gently tugs in the direction she wants to steer the boy. "Wanna drink something other than coffee?", Himiko asks a rhetorical question, but Akatani's eye shifting into its kakugan state is enough of an answer. 

Toshinori Yagi steps off the elevator and into the fray of hard working law enforcers. Officers run back and forth in order to deliver documents to their co-workers or to answer ringing telephones. The frail blonde nearly gets trampled by a plump detective that tries to brush by. Even the slackers by the water cooler look out of breath. Regardless, he somehow makes it to his friend's office unscathed.

"Another quiet night at the precinct, eh?", Toshinori leans against the doorframe as he greets Naomasa with some sarcasm. The joke gets a chuckle out of his friend and puts a grin on the blonde's face as a result.

"Thanks for stopping by.", Naomasa pauses as if he's only now noticing the cluttered paperwork across his desk, "Er.. Sorry for the mess.."

Toshinori both metaphorically & quite literally waves it off as no concern. "It's not a problem.", he steps forward to help the detective organize the folders in a dented filing cabinet. Taking a second glance, the paint looks a little faded and the desk appears to have a few splinters on it. The police department must not be receiving as much funding as it used to now that pro heroes are gaining traction in their popularity.

"Did you happen to foil any muggings on your way over?", Toshinori's grin stretches a little since he finds some humor in Naomasa's way of making small talk. 

"Nope. Aside from a robbery this morning, Musutafu has been as quiet as a mouse.", the blonde slides the last folder into the cabinet before it gets slammed shut.

"You've noticed it too?", Naomasa continues when he sees the perturbed expression on Toshinori's face, "Criminal activity is higher during the day. At night though.. It's nearly as rare as finding a unicorn in comparison to somebody shoplifting."

"Now that you mention it.. That's odd..", Toshinori rubs his pointed chin in contemplation, "Most villains do the opposite; they operate at night in order to avoid the heroes who patrol the area."

"Aizawa had a theory.", Naomasa begins digging through folders that are kept in his desk drawer, "Apparently, he did some cross referencing and finally found a connection between all of The Tokyo Ghoul's victims.". The detective stops skimming the documents when he spots the one that he's looking for, slapping it on the table and flipping the file open. "They all share a criminal background. Every. Single. One.", Naomasa spreads out the crime scene images for Toshinori to see better.

"We're dealing with a vigilante?", Toshinori glances up at his friend with some skepticism. When it comes to how much of a bodycount there is, it's hard to believe it could be a coincidence. However, each corpse is so mangled that the comparison to serial killers such as Moonfish could be made. Something doesn't add up.

"Aizawa's theories are starting to seem not so far fetched anymore.", Naomasa settles on a pensive frown as he skims the papers.

The two are snapped out of their cognition when a police officer with the head of a ginger tabby comes stumbling into the room. "Sir! There's been a bank robbery!", he pants like he's out of breath from running to the office.

"Tamakawa!", Naomasa exclaims in shock before taking on a stern & reprimanding tone, "I told you I would be in a meeting and any interruptions would not be tolerated unless it has to do with The Tokyo Ghoul."

The cop speaks in between heavy breaths, "But sir.. the robbery..", he shakes his cat-like head with a pant. 

The officer's large yellow eyes meet Naomasa's brown rectangular ones.

"It's a BLOOD bank."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of another chapter, which you know what that means, it's time for another one of my long ramblings!
> 
> So, I brought in yet another element from Tokyo Ghoul. I hope you don't mind Uta's presence. I needed a character to design Akatani's mask and I figured Uta would be MUCH better than any OC I could come up with. I also hope I did a decent job of portraying Uta's personality; I didn't want to change that part of him. Hopefully, you don't mind the random quirk that I came up with for him, but as I said in a previous author's note, I want Izuku/Akatani to be the ONLY one with a ghoul related quirk. Regardless of how you feel, he'll only be making an appearance one or two more times, so don't fret too much. I'm positive that I won't be using any other Tokyo Ghoul characters.
> 
> One other thing I thought of how to incorporate into the story are the doves, but I thought Akatani just using that term for heroes was much better than the organization getting crammed in. 
> 
> Yeah, there's some other easter eggs & references in there that I'll leave for you to find personally. Quite a few this chapter, indeed. 
> 
> Lastly, I want to assure you with the splendid news that I have a good number of chapters completely planned out and so SO many ideas. I'm super excited to share it all with you.


	4. These Monochrome Mornings: Daybreak

The sky may as well be a black canvas tonight, the tiny stars and faded moon being no different from white specks yet to be painted over. Its natural darkness only gleams with a periodic hue of dark blue, the red side of a police car's flashing lights not radiating bright enough. Cool colors reflect off of smudged windows, shimmering in the night. The vehicle's sirens are off, leaving only idle radio chatter and the scrape of shoes against cement to fully confirm police are present. 

Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi and his subordinate, Sansa Tamakawa, duck under police tape that's meant to seal off the blood bank's entrance. Naomasa's eyes search the doorway for any signs of forced entry, but any chipped wood looks like it's due to being weathered than any other reason. Toshinori Yagi treads as slowly as humanly possible behind them, not wanting to disrupt them during their investigation.

The dim lighting from inside casts a long shadow over sickly yellow walls. Where a receptionist would normally be to greet the men, sits a decaying desk with an empty seat behind it. There's a stray cigarette butt that's sitting in an ashtray which stopped burning, but there's also a lingering scent of smoke. The fumes settle on the tongue, leaving a bitter taste that sours when meshed with the smell of blood spillage wafting through the air. 

The soft crunch of glass between Toshinori's foot and the brown tiled floor draws their attention to the ground. Large drops of blood gradually lead to even bigger puddles, almost like a trail. One could make the assumption that it's due to a person bleeding out, but shattered glass on the ground and missing vials from shelves tell a different story.

"Here..", Naomasa digs into the pocket of his overcoat as he suddenly remembers something very important. "Everyone put these on.", the detective hands Tamakawa & Toshinori a pair of blue sanitation gloves so they don't contaminate anything before slipping on his own.

Naomasa crouches down on one knee so he can make a closer inspection. Normally, it'd be the job of the CSI Unit waiting outside to collect any remaining evidence. However, yellow markers that are placed indiscriminately let's him know they already sweeped the building. It's just his job to go over whatever remains and to pick up the broken pieces.. quite literally in this case. Naomasa gently takes a shard of glass, his fingers smudging the red bodily fluid that's on it.

"None of this has dried, so the heist must have been fairly recent..", Tamakawa mutters Naomasa's thoughts aloud for him so Toshinori can get a sense of the crime scene too. Born with a quirk that gives Tamakawa cat-like attributes, he also shares some of the animal's qualities, such as heightened senses. The officer's nose flares as it catches another whiff of the smell drifting around; the cigarette smoke remaining present tells them not much time has passed and the fresh blood practically confirms it as a plausible assumption. 

"We've got squad cars fanning the perimeter, something will come up if the perp is still in the area.", Naomasa turns his head just enough to look at Toshinori so he can make sure the hero doesn't go to perform his own manhunt. When the blonde doesn't run off, the detective uses his knee as a brace to push himself back up before adding, "The chances that we'll find anyone are slim though, there's no certain way of knowing how much time has passed and how far one could get, especially if they're as elusive as The Tokyo Ghoul."

"I thought that The Tokyo Ghoul was more..'colorful' with their crimes.", Toshinori doesn't bother hiding the displeasure in his tone or the frown on his face. The lack of sanitation there is enough to make his skin crawl all on its own; there's no need to add the recollection of those victim images into the mix.

"You're right.", Naomasa pulls at the latex around his wrist, "While this particular appetite does sync up with our perp's--", the glove comes off with a slight snap of whiplash, " --it doesn't match The Tokyo Ghoul's M.O."

Tamakawa chimes in with, "This might be a copycat of some sort.", earning a collective look of mild amusement from Toshinori & Naomasa. The police officer's ears flatten as he becomes sheepish, only now realizing he made an accidental pun. "O- Or someone new..", he bashfully scratches the nape of his neck while shyly turning away from them.

"I would be inclined to agree.", each member of the trio whirl around to face the voice of a newcomer. Tamakawa is mostly startled by the stealthiness of a tall & slender man whereas Naomasa and Toshinori are just bewildered. Once he steps out from the shadows, they begin to recognize him by his ragged appearance. The man wears a black outfit that's tucked in at his boots, no doubt meant to help him blend in with the night's atmosphere. The only distinctive features on his costume appear to be a wrap scarf and small utility belt. Otherwise, he could probably pass himself off as a hobo, what with his unkempt facial hair and shoulder length bangs that partially hang over his face. Despite looking like he just rolled out of bed and still remaining to be worn out, the trio know better, this is a pro underground hero in their presence. Eraserhead's eyes look half opened and just as tired as he feels, but still hold a carefully calculative glare. The flat stare flicks from Tamakawa to Naomasa, "Although.. I just so happen to have another plausible theory."

Naomasa's shoulders sag as he lets out an exasperated sigh, almost like he's a deflating balloon. "Please, Aizawa, I'm already annoyed enough as it is.", the detective massages his forehead with his index finger and thumb as if he's trying to soothe an oncoming migraine, "Don't go adding your theories to my frustration."

"Hold on.", Tamakawa rests his hand on Naomasa's shoulder in an allaying manner. "We don't have much to go off of here. It wouldn't hurt to get his professional opinion.", the officer glances at Toshinori with a supplicating expression, "Come on, let's hear him out."

The blonde shoots his own glance at Naomasa, the two sharing a look that's somehow verbal enough for the detective to give in. Sighing again, but this time his shoulders rolling back in preparation for what's to come, Naomasa chooses to appease his subordinate by gesturing for Aizawa to continue.

Eraserhead tilts his head in the direction that he wants them to follow before treading down an aisle of shelves. Leaking vials leave streams of blood that end up winding towards a pool of scarlet. It's almost like the epicenter of it all, several splattered footprints covering the tile there. Aizawa gives the others a moment to track the indentions towards an alley door, no doubt the exit that the perp used to leave.

"Whoever did this wasn't alone.", the trio shoot Aizawa all sorts of perplexed looks. Noticing that they aren't entirely convinced, he explains. "The footprints here are crossing eachother. It's too much of an irregular pattern to only be one person, especially when it's overlapping the other's steps.", his hand gestures in a lazy manner as an attempt to show them.

Naomasa shakes his head while trying to stifle a groan, "That doesn't prove anything at all. The perp could have just simply retraced their steps.", he crosses his arms in an exaggerated display of disappointment before asking, "Are you done wasting our time yet?"

Aizawa keeps his deadpanned expression while giving a wry response, "No. I haven't gotten to the best part yet.", the underground hero then casually uses his foot to nudge an evidence marker elsewhere. Before Naomasa can do any scolding or reprimanding, Aizawa points to the particular place that he moved it to. "The shoe sizes vary vastly.", the imprints are side by side for anyone to see that one is smaller than the other, "There are two culprits minimum."

Tamakawa covers his mouth with his arm, feigning a cough to cover up the huff of amusement he gets at seeing his superior outsmarted. Even Toshinori looks like he's trying to keep a grin at bay, though his is more likely to be part of the jesting that comes with friendship.

Naomasa throws his arms up in irritation, "Okay! You've made your point!", before crossing them again, "That doesn't prove it was The Tokyo Ghoul though. As a matter of fact, it only further suggests that it wasn't. As far as we know, he's acted alone and solely operates as a vigilante of sorts."

"Which leads to my belief that he was coaxed into doing this.", Aizawa gives the detective a sly glance before addressing Toshinori and Tamakawa, "As mentioned, The Tokyo Ghoul has acted alone, picking off criminals during the night. It started with low tier thugs, ones that were hard to decipher as crooks when their first offense was the same night that they died. As such, these criminals were simply purse snatchers or muggers. Our ghoul then slowly escalated to higher ranked villains, like a predator finding its place in the food chain."

"Your point, Aizawa?", Naomasa interjects without hiding his annoyance, an ever present scowl on his face.

"My point is that we prayed the ghoul wouldn't find its place in the food chain since that's likely even higher than its present place.", Aizawa fixes Naomasa with his own scowl, "This is a step down. The prayer is answered. Now you have to ask yourself: What could have stopped something like that just when it's about to reach the highest peak? The answer.. is a significant other."

Naomasa gives a dry laugh that's just short of being sardonic, "Give me a break! You're saying The Tokyo Ghoul has a lover?", the rhetorical question is meant to be condescending but only ushers Aizawa to further explain.

Eraserhead points at the footprints again, meaning to draw attention to the shoe sizes in particular. "It might not just be fitting the foot that makes this difference so conceivable. It would also make sense for one of these to fit a female whereas the other fits a male.", Aizawa catches the rectangular eyes of Naomasa with his flat ones, "The other possibility for why these shoe sizes are so small brings me back to another theory I had. If I'm not mistaken.. We might be dealing with children."

"A kid?!", Toshinori is unable to refrain from making an outburst of disbelief. The brooding look that crosses the blonde's gaunt features don't do the right amount of justice in conveying his inner turmoil. He's heard of troubled youth, but this is beyond that. As the symbol of peace and Japan's number one hero, he feels like he's personally to blame for such a travesty. "How could a kid--", he chokes up on his own emotions before overpowering them with an angry shout, "--A CHILD!? How could someone so young do such gruesome things?"

"It's easy for children to become misguided. Such underdeveloped minds may think they have no other choice.", Aizawa's expression softens with his tone as he tries to placate the blonde, "It might not seem like much of a change in direction, stealing versus murder, but we can thank whoever gave them an alternative. It's better than nothing."

It starts as a slow shake, but slowly increases in speed, Naomasa might just suffer a concussion from turning himself into a life size bobblehead. "You'e reaching too far on this. It's only a hunch with no real justifiable proof. It's too sudden and it's far too drastic of a shift in motive.", the detective groans before adding, "I'll throw you a bone and admit there's a likelihood of two culprits here -- but that's all! Quit while you're ahead."

"There are quirks with drawbacks worse than others.", Aizawa reaches into one of the various pouches on his utility belt, "I have dry eye every once and a while that can lead to vision deterioration if not treated.", the underground hero applies the eye drops that he pulled out. "Someone with gills may be required to constantly stay submerged in water in order to survive. There's a possibility that The Tokyo Ghoul has a similar drawback. It's not uncommon for quirks to show signs of aggression or to have cannibalistic urges either.", Aizawa blinks his eyelids a few times once he's finished before putting away the drops, "If we truly are dealing with a kid in this scenario, it's even more likely for them to believe this is the only option."

"..Until now..", Toshinori comes to the same conclusion as Aizawa once he mulls it over. "If the child needs blood or something of the sort to stay alive, then taking from here instead of killing a person means they have no real desire to harm anyone.", a small but hopeful smile starts to form on the hero's face.

Tamakawa purrs in satisfaction, equally enthused by the potential of a breakthrough in the investigation. He stops to scratch behind his triangular ear before asking, "Does that mean we should scratch out the vigilante classification now?", he winces when he realizes he made another unintentional pun. Nobody seems to notice besides Aizawa, who's eyes sparkle with more amusement than his expression.

"One night doesn't mean the rest will be any different.", Naomasa supplies his uncertainty with a shrug, "We hadn't had a vigilante as violent since Stendhal, the only difference being that psycho was short lived and mainly used a katana."

Aizawa hums in agreement before contemplating the rest out loud, "Most vigilantes don't cross the line of the law any further than illegal quirk usage. Adding manslaughter is too black; they prefer the grey area that they created in between the white."

"And where exactly is the line that's supposed to be drawn between those colors?", Toshinori solemnly asks from his sulking disposition. "What's the difference between a vigilante or a villain if killing isn't it?", the controversial question might seem rhetorical to the underground hero, detective, and police officer but Toshinori genuinely wants the answer when it involves a kid.

Tamakawa's ears bend as he takes the blonde's words into consideration. "You're asking if theft is more of a step over that line than murder?", it's more of a grim statement than a question at this point. The cop glances in the direction of his superior, hoping Naomasa might have the answer. Even the detective looks lost in thought, his pensive gaze directed at the floor.

As absurd as that thought might seem, it isn't completely illogical. There have been justifiable murders, ones done in self defense for instance. When put bluntly, maybe there is no line, maybe it's just one big splotch like the blood covering the floor. The real difference in villainy or vigilantism may be whether you love seeing your reflection in that puddle or recoil in disgust. Aizawa finds no real answer for anyone except, "Who knows what'll be the worst thing the ghoul does if they do become a full blown villain."

The crisp shadows shrouding them start to burn away as light gleams in. Vials shimmer under the sun's glare, naturally brightening the room little by little. Hues of orange blend with the red tint, creating a vibrant color that welcomes the morning. 

Toshinori turns towards the light, closing his eyes as he relishes in its warmth. The blonde bathes in it, the frown on his face curling upwards only slightly. When he opens his eyes, his blue reflects the sky. Clearing his throat to gather the other's attention, he throws a thumb over his shoulder in order to excuse himself. "It's about time for my morning commute. I should get going.", he checks his wrist for a watch that isn't there before adjusting the sleeve to cover it.

"Oh!", Naomasa snaps out of his cognition when he notices the hero is leaving. "I'll give you a call if anything changes and send the rest in the mail then.", the detective waves a farewell to his friend as the blonde backs away. 

"That would be wonderful. Thank you, Naomasa!", Toshinori shouts over his shoulder as he turns and jogs out the door. Once out of sight, the blonde ducks into an alley where nobody can see his transformation and becomes the pro hero acknowledged by everyone as All Might. Fragile limbs buff up in a matter of seconds, a massive grin spreading across Toshinori's face as he triples in size. The hero takes flight, bounding over buildings in a single hop, guffawing all the way into the troposphere. 

"This is going to leave me an unholy amount of paperwork to fill out..", Naomasa complains as he rubs the bags that are beginning to develop under his eyes. While the creases and wrinkles are nothing compared to Aizawa's, the detective wouldn't be far behind. 

"Be sure to fax it over to me when it's finished.", the underground hero remains monotone as he treads in the same direction that Toshinori went. Revealed to have been concealed under the capture cloth that's wrapped around his neck & shoulders like a scarf, Eraserhead pulls a pair of yellow goggles over his eyes. The specialized lens leaves only a few slits in them, hiding the direction of his gaze. On his way out, he gives the detective a bidded farewell, "In the meantime, I've got another lead that I intend to follow up on."

Tamakawa places his hands on his hips as he surveys the empty space. "Looks it's going to be one of those kinda days.", his whiskers bend with his half hearted smile.

Naomasa sighs in predetermined exhaustion, matching the fellow policemen's attitude. "In that case..", he pulls off the other sanitation glove before tucking his hands into his overcoat's pockets, "I'm gonna need a cup of coffee."

When Anteiku opens its doors to Musutafu in the morning, wave after wave of customers come bustling in for a taste of java. Lines form out the door sometimes; there's been the occasional circumstance of people bringing lawn chairs to seat themselves during the busy hour. This is another one of those instances, to call it a breakfast rush would be downplaying the crowd. Servers run back and forth as they scramble to serve customers their morning dew. Amongst them, is Akatani Mikumo, one of the best workers Anteiku has to offer.

The boy weaves in between tables as he sets down cups of tea or mugs of steaming coffee. Once the tray that he carries is empty, he swivels back around to walk briskly towards the kitchen for another round. There's a customer that asks for napkins on the way, to which Akatani politely obliges. A fortunate waiter wouldn't come across any extra interruptions, but this particular teen finds himself in the most unfortunate of predicaments all the time, so he's stopped once again. 

Thin arms wrap around his midsection, just above his waist and below his chest. The petite form pulls him into what must be a hug from behind, something soft pressing against his back momentarily. Startled by what feels like a sneak attack, Akatani breaks loose from the grip and spins around to face whoever grabbed him. "Surprise!", a familiar blonde greets him with a squeal of joy.

"Himiko?!", Akatani shouts in shock once he recognizes the petite girl. The boy glances in each direction as he realizes they're standing in the center of the cafe. In an attempt to avoid getting waylaid, Akatani gently takes Himiko by the wrist and guides her to a less populated corner. "Can't you see we're packed? I've gotta work; I can't get fired.", he keeps his voice down and tone low in the effort to keep a low profile.

"But I'm bored, Akatani!", Himiko pretends to whine as her lip curls into a feigned moue.

"I just might regret giving you the address to this place..", Akatani jokingly mumbles to himself as he shakes his head in bewilderment. From the single eye that peers out from his overgrown hair, he notices a small table meant for two has been cleared. "Here. Have a seat and just.. wait. I'll bring you a cup of coffee.", Akatani gestures to the chairs so she can see them too before backing away so he can flee into the kitchen.

Himiko plops into the seat with a small huff. The girl had so much fun the previous night that she couldn't wait to spend another one with the boy. What Himiko assumed would be a cure for whatever boredom started stirring in her stomach only left her with even less to do. There's nobody sitting in the chair across from her to talk with, there's no television set mounted up anywhere, there's not even any music playing from a radio. Left with nothing else to do, she starts playing with the sugar packets left out for customers to use. She picks through the pink and white, finding those colors cuter than the light blue ones. Once those run out, Himiko slumps in the chair as boredom overwhelms her again.

Akatani takes a swig from his own coffee before grabbing the one for Himiko, a to-go cup with a lid just in case she were to leave or accidentally spill it. He hadn't bothered with any sugar or specialties, having not gotten the chance to learn her preferences yet. Instead, Akatani snags some creams and sweeteners for her to personally choose from. 

The boy scampers back to the blonde, flashing her a benevolent smile once she sees him turn the corner with everything tucked under his arms. Even when he's swamped with other customers, he tries his best to serve her specifically. "I didn't know what you'd want, so I just kinda grabbed everything on hand..", he gives her a diffident chuckle while sheepishly scratching the back of his head.

"Aaww, Akatani, you shouldn't have!", the coy teasing leaves them both blushing. When the flushed faces lose a bit of their heat, Himiko's coy smirk forms into a grin. She shows him a vial of blood that was taken from the previous night, "See? I brought my own blend."

Akatani's exposed eye widens in an initial shock, the recognition evident in the small twinkle of his iris. The anxiety that comes from panic makes him shoot a worried glance over his shoulder before bringing his focus back to the vial of blood. "Try not to let anyone see that.", he whispers in a voice laced with concern.

Himiko rolls her eyes like he's being overdramatic, "Relax. Nobody is gonna notice.", the red liquid pours into the cup of coffee like an ordinary sort of creamer before she stashes away the empty vial. "It's not like anyone will be able to tell what it is either.", she says in reassurance while stirring the concoction with a spoon. 

"You can never be too careful..", Akatani shoots another worried glance towards the people behind him before gritting his teeth in what looks like resistance. The pupil of his eye seemingly shrinks as it turns a shade similar to the blood that was mixed with coffee. There's a dry swallow from the boy as it returns to normal. "Besides, it's more meant for me than them.", he timidly mumbles in admittance.

Himiko gawps a little as she realizes they're more similar than she previously thought. "You get an urge for blood when you see it, don't you, Akatani-kun?", she cranes her neck as she tries to get a closer look at him. His eye continues to display a constant shift of appearance, the only way to truly recognize Akatani's inner struggle. Any ordinary glance at the boy wouldn't uncover his hidden bloodlust, but Himiko is able to fully notice this side of him. She's able to fully understand it since she empathises with this desire too. "It's okay to give in. Here. Have some.", she slides the cup towards him while trying to make her voice as soothing as possible.

Akatani stares at the drink with reluctance before the gaze flicks back to Himiko, almost like he's checking for permission. The hesitance doesn't last very long though, he doesn't even wait to get that confirmation that she thought he was seeking. Akatani snatches the cup from the table, taking a big swig of it, practically chugging it. When he's finished, he lets out a satisfied sigh, a bit of liquid dripping from his lips before his tongue laps it up.

Himiko's mouth continues to hang open as she watches his every move. It's almost like he's constantly starving, completely deprived of what he wishes to taste. The small content he has from what he swallows though, she sees it in his features. A grin begins to form on her face, starting small and stretching bigger. The girl fully understands now, seeing herself in the boy. Two identities that contradict one another, the conflicted mind that draws them together just as much as it brings them apart, they both share this quality.

She's snapped from her musings by the chime of the coffee shop's front door. A man wearing a tan overcoat takes off his matching hat once he steps inside, ever the gentlemen. The green tie he wears with a pair of slacks and dress shoes makes her brush him off as a mundane businessman. She'd much rather keep her attention on Akatani Mikumo, the interesting specimen that.. is giving her an apologetic look. 

"I'm sorry. I've gotta take this customer.", he points a thumb over his shoulder in the plain guy's direction. "Thanks for letting me try your coffee blend.", the joke that's meant to be lighthearted isn't very funny when his voice cracks with the lack of sincerity. She can tell that the expression on his face is fabricated, that it isn't a real smile like the one she had seen those previous nights. No, beneath the mask that he's made, Akatani wears a face of self inflicted shame. Himiko wants to tell him so much, that there's no reason to be ashamed, but he's already walking away. 

Naomasa waits patiently for a worker to notice him, hands in pockets and head down as he contemplates the crime scene that he just left. Aizawa left him with a lot on his mind and the morning rush of customers at Anteiku leaves him with the time to go over it all. The thought of two culprits being responsible for the blood bank heist is enough of an issue, but linking it with The Tokyo Ghoul and saying they have a PARTNER makes it a whole lot worse. In all honesty, Naomasa would prefer to make this robbery an entirely different case file and let it collect dust on a shelf with no real resolve to close it. The complications that come with tacking on an accomplice to the elusive ghoul outweigh a simple burglary.

The detective bites his tongue like he spoke the thought out loud, enough to cause pain but not enough to draw any blood. A tide of shame washes over his mouth instead, cleaning it out like his saliva had been doused with soap. There was a time when he would never think about dismissing a case, no matter what it is. Naomasa had always been the most honest cop on the force, he had even been dubbed with the nickname 'True Man', and it wasn't just because of his lie detection quirk. Whether it was from all the stress that comes with trying to catch The Tokyo Ghoul or how many years he's had on the job, he can't help but wonder what happened to himself. A thought that isn't so easily dismissive crosses his mind: Is there a difference between the identity of that noble detective called True Man and Naomasa Tsukauchi?

"Toffee nut, right?", the detective is drawn from his rumination by a familiar looking barista. Whether it's done deliberately or not, half the boy's face is covered by his dark shade of hair, one might say it's the most defining feature that keeps him from looking plain. An emerald eye peers up with what can only be described as kindness, seemingly waiting on the detective's response.

"Uh, yes..", Naomasa is taken back by the waiter's ability to know what he was going to order. "How'd you guess? Your quirk?", a genuine curiosity that has to do with the detective's instinct to uncover mysteries sparks from it. In retrospect, it wouldn't be that bizzare if the server had something along the lines of precognition, it'd make sense for a business such as this to hire him for it specifically. 

The boy's laugh sounds lighthearted to the unobservant ear, but the faint sense of gloom isn't covered completely, he wouldn't be winning any emmys this year. "I don't have a quirk as cool as that.", his voice is distant but rises in pitch as if it comes closer when he focuses back on Naomasa, "I only knew your order because I remembered it from last time."

Suddenly, it clicks as to why the waiter looks so familiar. Naomasa refrains from slapping a palm into his face, feeling a tug of guilt for not remembering the boy's name. The kid had served him and Toshinori just the other day, yet the detective had completely forgotten.

"Ah, forgive me!", he gives the barista a slight bow to apologize. The gesture is mostly meant to serve as a distraction though, it's the detective's attempt to stall for time as he tries to recall the boy's name. Running a hand through his equally black hair, minus the grey strands, he's forced to surrender with a bashful smile. "I completely forgot. I'm sorry.. ?", he lingers on the end to let the waiter know that he's asking for their name.

"Akatani Mikumo -- and it's fine, I'm pretty forgettable when we live in a world that's filled with heroes and villains.", he brushes it off with a whimsical shrug. 

"Not at all!", Naomasa waves his hand to reassure the boy. "I've just had a lot on my mind as of late..", the detective finds himself running that same hand through his hair again as he awkwardly chuckles. 

"Ah, I see! Hence the coffee!", Akatani stands on his toes with some newfound spunk in his demeanor, "Assuming you're still craving that toffee nut, of course."

Naomasa gives the barista a small nod, "That would be perfect.", before clearing his throat and holding out his hand. "How rude of me -- I forgot to introduce myself!", Akatani takes and shakes it, "I'm Naomasa Tsukauchi!"

"Nice to meet you, officially this time.", Akatani gives the detective a bright smile before turning around to search for a table where he can be seated. The waiter falters for a moment, as if there's something missing in the far corner of the cafe. He recovers quickly though, maintaining the smile on his face and gesturing to a free space. "Right this way, Tsukauchi-San.", he says whilst leading the detective to the table. 

Naomasa arches an eyebrow, noticing the single spoon that sits there. It might just be from some kinda jam or something, but he swears there's a red stain on it. Akatani snatches it away rather hastily too, not even making a comment about it's existence. The detective lets out a heavy sigh, letting go of what must just be paranoia. 

"Of all the things that I could have picked up from Aizawa..", he mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had SO much fun writing Eraserhead. I was going to write a sentence or two suggesting his scruffy appearance is deliberate in order to blend in with the undersociety, but that paragraph on how he looks was getting too big as it was. Perhaps I'll mention it in a later chapter, but I just assumed it might be the reason.
> 
> For those who aren't caught up with the manga or/and watch the anime only, these next few paragraphs & sentences are going to contain spoilers. I suggest avoiding them all together and just closing out of the page or clicking 'next chapter' if I've posted it by the time you read this.
> 
> Okay, spoilers in 3.. 2.. 1.. let's jam.
> 
> I'm digging Himiko's eyepatch in issue 240, it suits her. I dunno if that's going to be an official addition to her appearance or not, but I'm seriously considering fitting it in somehow. As Himiko would put it, I think that'd make Akatani and her 'twinsies'. It wouldn't be until much later anyways if I did decide to do it though.
> 
> Speaking of manga spoilers, I apologize for not giving this warning sooner. There's some stuff that'll be briefly mentioned from the Vigilantes spinoff story too. Some of that has actually already been incorporated.. For instance, Makoto, Naomasa's sister in Chapter Two -- or Stendhal's mention in this chapter. 
> 
> Last thing I want to say, but certainly not least, is thank you all for your heartwarming comments! Reading every one brought a huge smile to my face!


	5. This Criminal's Captive: Birdcage

The glassy sky had just wept over desolate streets, leaving the air still and heavy. Tricklets of water continue to hit the ground, an indirect result of a strong breeze causing damp trees to sway from side to side. With the passing storm, it's like the aftermath is daring anyone to peer outside. There's even a percussion of chirping birds, joined by the barking of stray dogs in the distance.

However, in the heart of Musutafu, the darkest is never just before the dawn. Water that had been built up within the street's various potholes shimmer under the glow of bright yellow street lamps. Traffic lights indecisively switch between the colors of green, yellow, and red; the mechanism seemingly operating like a laggard disco ball. Among apartment windows that have their blinds drawn down, there's the occasional orange or white hue that illuminate both sides. 

In the particular window of a convenience store on that street corner, the glass glimmers with the faint tint of a television's reflection. It's an older model, the cheap box set only capable of broadcasting whatever channels its wiry antenna can pick up. If you squint hard enough at the smudged screen, you might be able to make out the grainy news station though.

The reporter's voice barely carries over the static, "--Currently approaching the two year anniversary in which the Waterhose duo made their heroic sacrifice.", a brief pause follows as an image is brought up beside him. 

A man and a woman share proud smiles in the photo, both wearing bright red life vests and white helmets that are equally radiant. They each have visors and snorkels attached, tailored to their water themed costume design. The heartbreaking part of the memorium is the young child in between them. The small boy gazes up at his parents, a wide smile on his face as he holds one hand each of his mother and father. The same hue of red as his parent's life vests, he wears a hat with two golden spikes protruding from it, the cap covering naturally pointed black hair. Unlike his parents, he isn't wearing any life vest or hero costume, just a white collared shirt and dark blue jean shorts. 

The newscaster adjusts his pair of square shaped spectacles, the glasses having slid down the bridge of his nose when he hung his head in solemn respect. A small curl drops in front of his forehead, ruining the slicked back style of his straw colored hair. The man's most prominent feature though, is the horn that's protruding from the left side of his head; the right side looks to be filed down. The reporter has noticeable facial wrinkles that broaden when he frowns, "Let us all share a moment of silence.", it's a small murmur only heard if you were to raise the audio's volume. 

It's rather fitting that he wears a suit and tie, as if he's attending a funeral service. The outfit consists of a dark blue blazer and a pale pink shirt that's buttoned to his neckline. He tugs on the brown tie as he clears his throat, moving on to the next part of the Waterhose tribute. "Each anniversary, civilians that were saved share a few words about the honorable duo which saved their lives that fateful day. This year, however, we reached out to comrades of the Waterhose team. Speaking on behalf of people everywhere, is the symbol of peace himself.. All Might.", the broadcast then transitions to footage of the number one hero.

All Might stands in front of a pier located just outside of Musutafu, but the camera is solely focused on him. Per usual, the hero has his blonde hair swept backwards, with the exception of two distinct tufts sticking up from his head that lean slightly to either side. Currently, he's wearing his Golden Age uniform, one that resembles a typical western comic styled superhero while showing off his muscular physique. The bodysuit is decorated with a color scheme that varies from red & blue to yellow and white; it ultimately ends up sharing a design reminiscent to that of America's flag. The red portion mostly covers his chest, creating a symbol that resembles the letter Y. A white diamond is at its center, with white lines stemming from it that trace all the way to his back shoulders. Other than a pair of winged gloves and golden boots with a matching belt, the rest is as vastly blue as the ocean.

The symbol of peace is never seen without a broad smile, yet, this one appears much more subdued. The poignant look in his eyes is impossible to see on such a low quality monitor, but it's there looking directly into the camera. He starts by saying, "I didn't personally know the Waterhose duo."

"However, I can proudly commemorate their actions. If I had been in the same position as them, I would have done exactly the same thing.", his eyes divert from the camera as he mulls over his next words. "Being a hero isn't always about beating the villain.", the blonde raises a fist so that he can clench it on screen, "It's also about saving as many lives as possible! That's what the Waterhoses did that day; they earned the right to be called heroes. What they did was admirable. They died honorably."

The video feed then switches back to the studio as the reporter runs a hand over his head, smoothing back the hair that had started to crimp. "Additionally, we arranged for the symbol of peace to share his condolences with the Waterhose's next of kin. Unfortunately, their child denied our proposition and we were only capable of speaking to his current guardian. The studio was requested to maintain discretion when it comes to the matter, but we were fortunately granted permission to share the following clip from the conducted interview.", new footage takes hold of the screen on cue.

A woman stands beside All Might in what appears to be a forest of some sort, the distinct difference from a normal woodland location being how the trees look to be tall & wide as city structures themselves. She's instantly recognizable as a pro hero too, being the lead member of a team called The Wild Wild Pussycats. Her costume stays true to the name, consisting of gloves that resemble cat paws and red markings beneath her eyes that mimic whiskers. She has maroon colored hair that's styled into three bangs going across her face; her large ruffled skirt and tail share a similar hue of red, along with the sleeveless top that's decorated by several straps and a bell.

The heroine bows deeply to the symbol of peace, "On behalf of my nephew, I'd like to say sorry for his ill mannerisms in refusing to speak with you. I'd like you to know that I don't believe it's anything personal, he just doesn't wish to be associated with ANY heroes as of late, myself and my teammates included.."

"No need to apologize! It's quite understandable!", All Might places an assuring hand on her shoulder that looks comically oversized in comparison to the woman. Then, the buoyant tone becomes much more subdued, better matching his sanguine smile. "The young lad must still be going through a lot. Losing his parents at such an age.. It's a good thing that he has his aunt to take care of him.", All Might tenderly pats her shoulder as a form of reassurance.

The pixelated image of All Might gets covered by the glare of headlights. A group of four stop their vehicle right outside the store so that they can watch and listen to the broadcast. The television is often left running even after closing, the general idea being to draw in potential customers. However, it can also catch the attention of people less accustomed to civilized methods. The glass window shatters under a single strike, exposing everything inside. Two plump hands reach through the gap, grabbing the television and lifting it from its stand.

"I just wish I could punch em in his perfect teeth.", a rotund goliath grumbles in regards to All Might. The massive man resembles an ogre with his odd shape, causing him to hit the top of the store's awning. He stops to shake any shards stuck in the harness that's strapped to his head; a small spire pokes out from where his nose should be, giving him some resemblance to a rhinoceros. 

"There's not enough pennies or fountains for that one to come true.", one of his partners scoff as they step forward to grab a radio left on the same display; their orange mohawk clips the tip on what remains of the window. Both thieves wear matching jackets that leave the chest exposed, the only difference being the ogre's is purple and the other's is blue. His face is also covered, but this mask is more of a muzzle with a green stripe down the center.

"Let's be real. Even if you did manage to land a blow, it probably wouldn't even phase the guy.", a messy haired blonde hops off the tailgate of a white truck. Unlike the other two, this thief is wearing an equally white tank top. He does share a mask though, albeit his covers only the top half of his face and has three red horns protruding from the forehead part. Another distinct difference from his partners in crime is how much darker his skin tone is.

"Hurry up so we don't gotta worry about having the chance to find out!", a fourth criminal with nothing but sunglasses to serve as their mask urges the other crooks from his driver's seat. The blue headband that he's wearing does a lousy job of absorbing all the nervous sweat running down his face. The getaway driver's quirk gives him elongated ears that stretch just above a tower of brown hair; they twitch as they listen out for any police, heroes, or witnesses. He buries his chin into the collar of a black turtleneck that has its sleeves cut off, "Grab the shit and let's go!"

The biggest of the bunch tosses the stolen television into the loading bed with a huff, "I'm pretty sure All Might only patrols during the day, so don't go getting your panties in a bunch over nothin."

"What are ya? Superstitious? You got more of a chance to win Lotto 7 than run into him!", the one with a mohawk packs the radio he took while reaffirming his partner's statement.

"I just got a bad feeling about tonight..", the getaway driver anxiously tugs at the band around his head. Sweat buildup gets on his fingers during the process, which he proceeds to dry off by using the collar of his turtleneck. Judging by the way his ears constantly twitch at every sound and the way he turns his gaze towards anything that creates a gleam over his sunglasses, he definitely has a severe case of paranoia.

"You worry too much. I mean, just look at how we pulled off this heist! It was a cinch!", the heavy weighted member plops himself in the back with the stolen goods. A slight creak escapes the truck as it shudders under his mass. He waits for the ginger and the blonde to hop in as well before shouting, "I can't believe it either, but we did it!"

"Hell yeah! Let's hit up another place!", a grin stretches across the tanned blonde's face as he slaps the side of the truck for emphasis. 

Their celebration is short lived though; the rambunctious crew all turn as still as stone once they see someone drop down from above. The shadowed figure lands in a crouch, blocking the direction of the road that they intended to go. "Wh- Who the fuck is that?!", the blonde is the first to recover from their collective stupor. 

Taking in the short figure's appearance, it only appears to be some punk off the streets. A black sweat jacket with the hood drawn up and matching cargo pants makes them seem like a casual civilian. "They don't look like any kinda hero that I know..", the driver strains his eyes as he tries to peer through the dark.

"Dammit, Hierro! You jinxed it!", the one with the ginger mohawk slaps his chubby criminal partner upside the head before motioning for the driver to go anyways, "FLOOR IT!"

"Fuck you, roadkill!", the tan thief flicks his middle finger forward so that he can shoot their target a bird. The three in the back let out a collective cackle as the driver guns the gas, "You're dead if you think you can take on--"

A blurred flash of red is all they see before the truck is flipped backwards in one fluent motion. The hooded being never moved a muscle; crimson appendages acted like a predatory organ, striking out from the base of their back. Streams of blood flick back & forth like a collection of tails, mimicking the behavior of something animalistic. 

Smoke begins to waft from the wreckage. Oil slowly leaks out of the crashed vehicle too, eventually creating a puddle that'll only continue to get bigger. An arm reaches out of the truck's shattered windshield, grasping for something that isn't there. Blood streaks down the limb, soaking the hand until it's scarlet and dripping off of twitching fingers.

The hooded figure begins to trudge along the pavement at a sedate pace. There should be a sound of shoes scraping against asphalt, but only an echo of gentle footsteps radiate from its presence. They sway from side to side with each footfall, casually approaching the crashed vehicle. 

A groan escapes from one of the crash victims, the tanned blonde, as he tries to regather his bearings. Still disoriented by the constant ringing in his ears, he hardly registers the hooded figure crouching down right beside him. Suddenly, the third digit that had so carelessly flipped off the hooded figure bends and snaps under the pressure of what may as well be a set of fangs. That pained moan from earlier morphs into a shrill shriek as the blonde's finger gets severed from his hand. 

All of a sudden, the truck is turned over yet again; the thief with a mutation quirk used his strength and size to flip it off of his crew. The hooded individual instinctively leaps backwards, soaring through the air and landing on a nearby street post. A wet gag escapes the lumbering goliath; his injuries leave him scarred and bruised, shrapnel sticking out of his flesh and bleeding wounds alike. He makes an attempt to wipe away some of the blood leaking out from a cut above his right eye, only to smear it across his forehead.

The hooded assailant hums from their perch, eyeing the brute rather inquisitively. A long black bang hangs down from the hood's opening once they tilt their head to the side. Just staring at the chubby criminal is enough to make the hooded predator's mouth water. Blubber is worn like an extra coat on the crook, creating the enticing promise of meat. Saliva begins seeping from each corner of the carnivore's mouth once hunger starts to flood their system like adrenaline. 

Like a liquid muscle, one of the tails protruding out of the predator's lower back whips down with an effort akin to flexing. However, the force is enough to completely obliterate the streetlight, leaving behind a tapered post and a shattered bulb. This simple move is enough to propel the hooded figure forwards so that they may clear the gap between themself and the goliath. It takes one aerial maneuver from the predator to twist its body around, allowing itself to vault over the criminal's head with relative ease. Then, the hooded hunter lands in a poised position from behind their prey. 

One of the liquid appendages cocks itself back before striking like a cobra, piercing the criminal's right arm and threading it like a sewing needle. Joints in the limb are snapped in half while other ligaments get severed, resulting in a high pitched squeal from what looks so ironically like a pig. Similar to that of an octopus ensnaring its quarry, another tentacle wraps around the burglar's left leg before constricting like a python. These liquid limbs remain resilient as their victim struggles to escape, regardless of how they flow in a fashion relatable to water. 

Effortlessly, the tentacles hoist the criminal upward so that he may be suspended over the hooded predator's head. Like a set of additional claws, the remaining liquid limbs tear into the victim's flesh. Wails of agony fill the ambience of Musutafu while tissue is torn open and meat is ripped apart. Intestines spill out and blood flows from the corpse like a waterfall, pouring straight into the hooded predator's mouth. There's a moan of ecstasy from the ghoulish being, regardless of how much gore overflows to the point that it splashes outside their lips. 

A short distance away, still stirring from their car crash, the tan thief attempts to prop themself up on one elbow. The forced movement is so jarring that they instantly slump back to the ground. Next time he tries to move, it's much more sluggish and only something as simple as rolling over so that he can lay flat on his back. A sharp pain shoots through his side and up into his chest, the side effect of three broken ribs. Instinctively, he reaches with his hand to apply pressure, which leads him to discover that it's missing a finger. There's a small tremor that runs along his body as his quivering lips convey the pain into one single word, "F- Fuck.."

The blonde burglar buries his hand into the fabric of his tank top, not caring about how the white material gets soaked in red by blood. Other colors such as orange or yellow appear as splotches in his vision, indicating that he's already lost a lot of the bodily fluid. Momentarily, he clenches his eyes shut the same way he does with the shirt in his fist. Those iridescent spots remain for a short while, shrinking in size until they completely dissipate. When his eyes reopen, the dazed state of mind finally concedes and he's able to draw his attention forward. The first thing that he sees are his friend's remains being cannibalized. He repeats himself at a louder frequency this time, "F- ..FUCK!"

This outburst doesn't go unnoticed; the hooded predator whips its head towards the source of sound with a feral noise of its own. A startled gasp escapes the blonde's mouth when their eyes meet. It's like a drop of blood landed in the eternal abyss that you're told not to stare into, the veins that stem from it mirroring the reflection of a cracked conscious. As blank as the black void, this ghoulish gaze holds no emotion; it's the kind of look that you'd give an insect under a microscope, the prolonged glance that's never anything more than just that. It's that precise moment that a distinction is made clear between looking into a common criminal's eyes and a killer's.

With a wet quelch, liquid talons detach from the mangled meat of their victim; whatever remains of the corpse splatters against the ground as soon as it gets dropped. These fluid appendages slowly coil around their owner before redirecting themselves so that they're aimed towards the tanned thief next. It's a brisk laceration across the neck and stomach that ends the blonde bandit's life almost instantaneously. Blood drains from the gash in their throat, followed by a dead collapse.

With no further interruptions, the ghoul goes back to feasting on its quarry. There is no chewing though, only the gnashing of teeth as flesh gets devoured. Fingernails dig under skin like something that has to be peeled off before clawing at the same spot again to expose tissue. There's a handful of pancreas and another one of muscle fiber, both of which drenched in blood for consumption. As soon as any of the meat is swallowed, more gets stuffed into the predator's mouth. Its a rather noisy eater too, slurping on the intestines and inhaling everything else like a vacuum.

From corpse to corpse, the ghoul feasts until nothing remains. Even the bone fragments get gnawed on, ossein oozing out as munching subsides. A sigh of content carries condensation, the exhale drawing their shoulders into a despondent slouch. Suddenly, the dark chasm called an eye widens as though its seeing for the first time. The crevices made up of veins retreat into a fluctuating iris. Like a reptile basking in the sun, they remain still under a pale moonlight.

The ghoul then draws their hood down, allowing a maelstrom of tangled black hair to fall out. A doleful expression crosses their now visible face, not that it matters when no survivors nor witnesses can identify it as Akatani Mikumo's. He uses the back of his hand to wipe away all the gore covering his lips. No longer severely starved, he doesn't bother with licking it off. Another sigh, this one much more subdued, and then he's on his way.

Akatani's leisurely stroll through Musutafu isn't the ideal midnight excursion, not when the only thing to see around him are eyesores. Dagobah Municipal Beach, what used to be a beautiful public spot is now reduced to a junkyard, years of rampant pollution turned the coastline into something revolting. Ramen shops and stores that sell fine china were once meant for high class customers, but months of vandalism leave them in a state of disarray. Graffiti cover the walls like a coat of paint, heaps of trash litter the sidewalks, and tires run over potholes in the streets. 

The skyline is a much better sight to behold. Building structures fill the inked atmosphere with their silhouettes, only occasionally joined by tufts of equally stygian clouds. The pale moon that hangs like an unpolished pearl makes it all seem so monochrome, not a sliver of fluorescent chalk gleams through. 

A bitter breeze blows through the fabric of Akatani's clothes, making him seethe through his teeth while trying to suppress a shiver. Relentlessly, the cold continues to nip at his fingers, regardless of its withdrawn effect under how numb they've already become. Even so, Akatani stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as a futile attempt to ease it somewhat. 

Frigid feet make it a long journey to Uta's store, each step as though it's being taken into a shallow pool of water. Cold seeps into his toes and rises like a small tide to cover his feet, making them feel rather bare regardless of the red sneakers that he's completely worn out. 

It's a freezing fog that he breathes in, something that ices the marrow of his bones like wet concrete. Akatani's teeth begin to chatter behind his blue tinged lips, making him miss the warmth of a victim's blood glossing over them. Almost immediately, that urge is expelled from his mind; it's as if it got flung out by the violent shaking of his head. Settling for lukewarm saliva, he sucks on his own lips to keep them from chapping. 

It's rather shocking when Akatani finds Himiko wearing nothing but her usual attire in such weather. A short skirt and a cardigan is hardly enough to keep her warm, the petite blonde's thin frame shivers every two seconds. Before he can ask her why she's outside rather than inside Uta's shop, "Akatani-Kun! I've been waiting!", she provides an answer without question. 

"You're gonna catch a cold standing out here.", he shakes his head in exasperation while tugging at the bottom of his hoodie. "Here. Wear this before you get sick.", Akatani then pulls it off so he can offer it to the bunned blonde. The boy was already freezing when he had the extra layer on, but now he's downright chilling to the core in nothing but a white t-shirt.

The bilabial trill of a dismissive 'pfft' is synced with Himiko's eyeroll. "It's still summer time, Akatani-Kun!", she's quick to riposte but ends up taking the hoodie regardless.

"Certainly doesn't feel like it..", Akatani shudders when another breeze rolls through. The gust of wind is enough to finish convincing Himiko that she should wear Akatani's hoodie. It's oversized on her, but that's probably why it'll do a better job of keeping her warm rather than its original owner. 

Uta's entrance is accompanied by the telltale jingle of a bell. "Let's get inside already.", Akatani takes a step so there's enough room for Himiko to squeeze by, but never once takes his hand off the door so it can swing shut. 

The blonde flashes one of her signature grins at him, a tiny giggle bound to come out of it. "I guess The Tokyo Ghoul kills everything except for chivalry.", she gets in a good wisecrack as she skips by before allowing the cheeky titter to escape.

Akatani's groan overshadows the slam of the door closing shut. "Look.. Uh..", Akatani rubs the temples of his forehead while struggling to come up with the right words, "I know we're here to literally pick up a mask for my.. 'alter ego'.. but could you try not to say things like that outloud?"

"If you don't want it to be obvious, then you shouldn't wear clothes that reek of blood.", the blond shrugs with raised palms as though it were public knowledge. "Seriously..", she says while pinching the fabric of her borrowed hoodie, "this thing smells like a brand new car.. if it were used to run over an entire family."

Akatani drags the hand he was using down his face, giving up on the small massage that was meant to prevent any headaches. "Sorry. I was hungry and.. You know the rest.", he murmurs it loud enough for her to hear but mumbled enough that she'll know better than to drag it out into a conversational topic.

"No need to apologize!", she assures him with frantic hands that go to gripping the material immeditally after. "It's so fresh and cozy!", she then lets out a girlish squeal while hugging the cloth closer, "It feels like I'm wearing someone else's skin! I love it!"

Akatani is so shocked by her response that he nearly stumbles backwards. There's words that he wants to say, but none of them manage to climb up his throat; the black haired boy swallows them down instead. He faces away from her, unable to trust himself with any involuntary expression he may give. "Um.. L- Let's see if we can find Uta.", there's no sign of the mask designer anywhere as Akatani scours the store with his eyes. "He must've heard us come in..", he shoots a glimpse over his shoulder back towards Himiko so she knows that he's still conversing with her. 

"Uta-Saannn!", Himiko follows his lead as she calls out in a sing song manner for the shop owner. A light skip remains ever present in her stride as the two venture deeper into the store.

"Do you think he's hiding someplace so he can try scaring me again?", Akatani pauses to check under a pair of drapes. He doesn't find anything other than a stack of boxes, all sharpied with kanji that reads 'plastics'. 

Himiko begins tapping her index finger against the corner of her chin, as though she's pondering the question that's been presented. After a brief moment, she lets her hand drop and shakes her head. "Nah, Uta-San usually tries not to use the same trick twice.", but she contradicts herself by checking behind a chair anyways.

Akatani bobs his head a little before realizing that she has her back to him; he stops nodding and clears his throat, "I don't think he went anywhere if the door was unlocked. If he's not out here, then he must be in the back. Right?"

Himiko gives him a noncommittal shrug, "Let's check for ourselves.", and heads towards a door that reads 'employees only' in bolded yellow kanji. 

"Uh, I don't think we're allowed back there..", Akatani warily follows her while glancing behind himself as though he missed something.

"Relax, Uta-San won't mind!", Himiko brushes off his concerns with a literal wave of her hand. The way that the bunned blonde bounces through the back space shows a lot of confidence behind her statement. "Especially once he sees that it's only us.", her grin is a tad too mischievous to be reassuring though.

Akatani's responsive hum is laced with uncertainty but he continues to trail behind the blonde regardless. He searches the back space with skeptical eyes, noting that it looks to be primarily used as a supply station if all the tool cabinets are anything to go by. Equipment ranges from things such as small screwdrivers to a lathe and a blowtorch. 

Eventually, the duo find Uta hunched over a small desk, staring intently through the microscopic lens of a magnifying glass. Unlike the colorful flavor of all his neon light fixtures, a fluorescent bulb shines down on the desk instead. The designer delicately weaves a string through what looks like a crow shaped cowl. Fingers that would normally tremble remain still, operating on the mask more carefully than a doctor would during surgery. 

"Hiii Uta-Saann!", the artist doesn't even flinch over Himiko's boisterous shout. There's no response from him either, it's as though Uta hadn't heard her at all. "Akatani-Kun and I are here to pick up his mask.", she carries on with her frisky attitude anyways.

The designer hums in acknowledgement, his ability to speak currently limited by the pin that's held firmly between his lips. Uta extends his other arm, holding out a black fabric that must be the finished product for Akatani.

Uncertain as to what he should say or do, Akatani stutters out a solid, "Th- Thanks..". When he takes it from Uta, his thumb grazes the rough lining of a zipper. Curious as to what the front of the mask looks like after feeling something so coarse, Akatani turns the mesh of leather over.

The cold zipper that he felt is etched in between an array of what looks like artificial teeth. The design carries a set of exposed gums on it too, adding to the graphically ghoulish motif. Pulling the tab at the end of the mouth lining, Akatani slides the zipper open. He assumes the feature is there to allow increased efficiency for when he's preying on meals. It should allow for him to consume the meat while simultaneously protecting his identity without the need to remove the entire mask.

A brow arches when he takes notice of the small filters on either side. The protruding objects don't look big enough nor operable to be a breathing assistant. The metallic bolts don't twist or budge when he tries to turn or pull on them either. Assuming the additional pieces must be mainly for aesthetic, he glosses over it. 

The mask looks like it'll cover a majority of his face, with the exception of his left eye. Where he'd normally let his hair hang over, leather is morphed into a makeshift eyepatch. To say the least, he's happy with the turnout. "How much yen do I owe you?", Akatani switches the mask in his hand for the wallet in his back pants pocket. 

Uta doesn't blink until he's finished stitching the fabric of what's in front of him, all his tense muscles go slack in relaxation as though he's fallen asleep only after it's done. Spitting the pin in his mouth out and into a small silver tray, he's finally free to let a breath out with it that he had also been holding in. "First one is free.", Uta gives Akatani a carefree wave that's just short of being dismissive.

"Eh?", Akatani's face shoots up with a perturbed expression. 

"EEHHH?!", Himiko mimics Akatani better than a parrot ever could; the only distinct difference being how much of a higher pitch it is and how her body language turns into that of a childish pout. "That's NO FAIR, Uta-San! How come you never gave ME anything for free?!", she whines with two exaggerated stomps of her feet.

Uta gives her a deadpanned expression as he responds, "You never ordered a mask from me.. How is it MY fault that you never got anything?"

"Still!", Himiko huffs with a twist of her heel to face the opposite direction, "Not even a piece of gum or anything!"

Ignoring Himiko's antics, Uta turns to address Akatani again. "Look.. I have another client coming in pretty shortly, one that particuarly doesn't appreciate other customers in their presence. So, if you really wish to pay, then come back another time. Otherwise, the mask is yours to take for free.", he speaks while flagging his hand in a shooing manner.

"Oh.. Okay. So, like, a tab? Thanks Uta-San.", Akatani glances between the mask in his hands and the man who created it before bowing deep enough to show his appreciation. 

The ding of the front door's bell is enough to make both Uta and Akatani stand straight. "You'd better go..", the usually stoic tone in Uta's voice suddenly sounds extremely urgent. Feeling how tense the atmosphere has become, one would think that they're expecting the boogieman himself to step through the door. Akatani allows his instincts to take control of the steering wheel, stepping in front of Himiko in order to protect her if need be.

"Right. Let's go, Himiko.", the blonde is startled by how strong of a grip he has when taking her hand in his own. She lets out a small squeak when she's tugged in the direction of the exit, which results in his firm hold loosening a bit as not to harm her.

However, it's too late for them to slip away unnoticed. Their path is intercepted by a group of four people. Each eye that catches the other widens in initial shock, uncertain of what to say or do. After a brief pause, the brown haired man that's in between two other men steps forward. Akatani instantly takes notice of how the center man is wearing a black surgical mask and white surgical gloves, a sign that the stranger could be ill or a doctor if their wealthy attire is anything to go by. A unique green bomber jacket with a collar lining completely composed out of purple fur hangs from the man as loose as the white tie around their neck. Black dress pants and an equally dark dress shirt are all he wears underneath.

Akatani's eyes flick to the small girl hiding behind this odd man. She has her head down, avoiding eye contact completely and making her lengthy flow of white hair hang over her face. What makes his gaze linger longer and wariness wager are the bandages covering the child's arms and legs. She only wears a plain short sleeved dress that's as pale as she is, making it rather evident that she's malnoruished. Akatani's free hand impulsively clenches into a fist as he frets over her health, his gaze switching to the two men on either side of her in order to size them up.

One of them fits the role of a goon perfectly, their height and muscularity extremely apparent. Just like his boss, this guy wears formal clothing in the form of suspenders and pinstriped pants. Akatani takes notice of the man's visibly pointed facial features, their face appears to be stretched into a square shaped chin that's covered by a goatee. Much like the goon's pointed nose, their hair is also spiked up. 

The other henchman looks much thinner, their true frame hidden by a baggy raincoat that's oddly white instead of yellow. The coat's hood does a poor job of covering the man's chin length hair, its odd style of clock needles suggesting that it has something to do with their quirk. 

Completely disregarding Himiko & Akatani, the supposed leader of this group glares daggers into Uta's eyes while asking, "Is my custom commission finished yet?"

Uta does a hard swallow, nodding before giving his customer a verbal answer. "I just completed the last one of the batch. If you would follow me, they're all in the back..", he turns with an outstretched arm that gestures in the opposite direction Akatani & Himiko were headed. 

Uta's eyes flick from the man's to Akatani's for what must be a millisecond, acting as a silent cue for the two teens to leave while they still can. The man with the surgical mask glances in the same direction, taking notice of the directed communication. The gaze doesn't linger for very long though, his eyes turn back towards Uta and he nods. "Lead the way.", it feels like a permission has been granted as the cronies move forward to follow.

"Uta-San..", Himiko opens her mouth to say something but Akatani pulls her towards the exit with just enough force to cut the sentence off before it can even begin. It's not a rough tug, but the guidance is affirmed by how tight of a grip Akatani has on her. The bunned blonde considers yanking away, but there's something about how he holds her hand, it's almost like he's afraid she'll be taken away if they're not completely connected. Himiko may be a blonde, but she isn't dumb, she knows when to take a hint and manages to have some self control just this once.

The group of men continue forward at the leisure of Uta's guidance, forcing Akatani and Himiko to go around them. Nobody says a word and any eye contact that was present before now avoids eachother like the plague. The teenage duo pass by the three men completely, almost in the clear. Akatani carries the same pace as not to raise any more attention to themselves than they already have; he and Himiko are nearly at the exit.

Then, something small latches onto Akatani's leg, preventing it from moving any further. The extra weight isn't enough to stop him entirely if he were to really apply effort into lifting his foot again, but it does cause him to pause in his stride. The boy tilts his head down to see what he may have accidentally bumped into, only to find the white haired girl who had been accompanying the group of men. With her gaze aimed upwards, he now notices the small horn that's protruding from a corner of her forehead, something he couldn't have seen earlier when she had her head down. He would have probably been able to pry her off if he hadn't made the mistake of locking his eyes with her own that are a bright red so vibrant he can only describe them as purely innocent.

Himiko audibly gasps in what must be the same amount of surprise that Akatani has written across his face. Before either of them can get a word out though, somebody else beats them to the punch. Around the time that they had stopped moving, so did the group of men being led by Uta. At the head of the pack, the man with the surgical mask, turns his head ever so slightly. Without even fully glancing behind himself, the guy barks an incredibly stern order. "Come back, Eri.", their eerie tone triggers all sorts of danger warnings in Akatani's mind but he isn't capable of leaving behind such a terrified child.

When her tiny hands clench the fabric of his pants leg even tighter, he crouches down so he can show her that there's no intention of going just yet. This reaction must be enough to give her a boost of courage in order to stay put, her head cradling into his stomach with her eyes closed as though it were an affirmation. Since neither boy nor girl makes a move otherwise that indicates she's going to obey her given command, the man in a surgical mask is forced to fully face them now. Akatani feels himself tense up as the man's lackeys turn around as well. "Excuse me, sir. Your .. daughter? She seems pretty scared.", he tries to act oblivious to the matter even though the child is holding onto him as if her life depends on it. 

The way that the man's eyes narrow serves as an unspoken threat, regardless of the excuse that one of his subordinates makes. "Sorry that she's causing you such trouble. She probably just wants to be held since she tends to fall over.. a lot.", the one in the raincoat is who makes an attempt to reason with Akatani first. It comes out sounding so improvised that the teenage boy can't help but take another weary glance at what must be the leader.

The brown haired man's squint becomes further tapered, presenting his annoyance in a fashion differential to how one would normally just sigh or balatanly huff. Even so, he graces everyone in the room with what little patience he has left, by going along with the subordinate's story. "Yes.. Eri is constantly horsing around, getting herself all scraped up..", however, his voice doesn't shift in the slightest from that same eerie tone; it's the kind that urges whoever hears it to obey. There's no doubt that this man is absolutely dangerous.

Yet, "Pardon my saying.. but these look to be a bigger amount of bandages than what you would get from only 'horsing around'. Aside from that, she hasn't uttered a single word for herself and hasn't loosened her grip at all.", Akatani knows that he's going to tread over the line that Uta had so desperately tried to put between them. "What are you REALLY doing to her?", he fixes the man with an intimidating glare of his own now that he's fully committed.

The goon with a goatee chimes in now, completely infuriated by Akatani's accusation. "YOU DARE TALK BACK TO THE BOSS?! ARE YOU CALLING HIM A LIAR?!", veins bulge from his forehead with each exaggerated shout. The thug takes two hefty stomps forward, only to be blocked by Uta who's waving his hands in a haphazard manner. 

"He's probably just concerned, is all! Please forgive him on my behalf!", Uta attempts to bow while still keeping his arms outstretched, as though that'll be enough to stop the muscular man from plowing through. Uta then shoots what's meant to be his own glare in the direction of Akatani, the only contradiction being how worried his expression looks. "He's just a stupid teenager that doesn't know any better.", there's no real bitterness in his comment though.

The goon looks ready to pounce regardless of Uta's pleading, that is, until his boss interjects with a small exhale. "Kids are so difficult nowadays..", nobody knows if he's referring to Akatani or the small girl named Eri. "Having to put up with them.. it honestly makes me believe that I could turn into a very different kind of person..", he acts far too casual as he begins peeling back the wrist on one of the surgical gloves. 

Eri seems to notice the man's gesture, her tear brimmed eyes widening as the instinct to run back kicks in. However, when she lurches away from her spot against Akatani's chest, she's blocked by a pair of arms. The way that they curl around her, it's like they're creating a protective shell that nobody can get through. Even so, she worries that it won't be enough, her desperate gaze returns to the boy's face. 

"If you take that glove off..", Eri's mouth opens in awe when she sees the boy's emerald eye has now shattered with a crimson color far darker than her own irises, "..I'll kill you."

The bad tempered goon with a goatee stomps forward as though he had been the one to get provoked, "You.. Why, you little-". Once again, his assault is interrupted by a sound from the leader. However, unlike the annoyed huff from last time, it's a soft chuckle coming from the masked man.

The elastic fabric of his surgical glove snaps back into place, the hand coming up to signal his henchman not to retaliate instead. After the light laughter subsides, the brown haired man shakes his head in amused disbelief. "Very well.. Allow me to educate a high school dropout such as yourself on what you'll need to be aware of if you hope to ever reach your elder years.", his golden gaze fixates on the scarlet stare coming from Akatani. "I am the Capo of the Eightfold Cleansers, or in other words, a 'gangster'.", he pauses briefly in order to gage what sort of reaction Akatani may have. When he sees no change in the boy's expression and how that darkened glare only glowers even more, he continues, "Oh, I'm sure that means nothing to you. You're so young that you'd probably consider what's called 'villains' as true criminals. Well, you would be wrong in your assumption." 

"Are you aware of what's called an underworld? What about an empire?", these rhetorical questions get answered instantly, "THAT'S where the real crime gets operated and that's exactly where you are right now.", the rundown location of Uta's shop now makes more sense to Akatani. "So.. Who do you think runs such an operation? I'll save you the trouble of guessing. It's me; the head of the Yakuza.", his golden glare shimmers under the store's lighting, "Now that you've been properly educated.. Do you still believe that you should speak to me in such an informal manner? ..Or would you like to take back what you said?".

Akatani tilts his chin down, but not once does he take his eyes off of the dangerous man or his lackeys. He hadn't expected Uta to be working with a powerful criminal organization such as the Yakuza. There's no telling how many branches of the villain group exist and what they're all capable of. However, Akatani can only see three members currently present, and that makes him like his chances a little more than he should. He isn't as good at rebuttals like Himiko is, so he says the first thing that comes to mind. 

"..Okay, boomer.", he hadn't meant for it to come out sounding so monotone though. Himiko had been lost as to what she should say or do throughout this entire situation, but that manages to ease the tension enough for her to recover. The bunned blonde stifles a laugh as Uta clutches the area that his heart is located. 

The Yakuza leader doesn't find it very funny though, his glare narrows into a squint again as his eyes switch from Akatani to Himiko to Uta. The gaze returns to Akatani, "You don't scare so easily..", there's a contemplative hum from him before he continues, "You're either a foolish boy that appropriates their childish nature .. or .. you have a quirk so vile that you actually believe you hold the capability to kill me."

Before Akatani can make a retort, Himiko finally decides to chime in with her own. "You actually thought you could flaunt your status in the bad boy league when you have The Tokyo Ghoul to compete with?", her own question is as rhetorical as the ones earlier given by the Yakuza leader. With a shrug of her shoulders, "Weird flex, but okay.", she makes her own meme reference. 

Uta gawps over the revelation whereas the trio of Yakuza only react with what looks like mild prudence. The goons step closer to their boss, taking Himiko's announcement to heart more than the actual leader. "You expect me to believe a mere child is The Tokyo Ghoul?", though the Capo shows some piqued interest where their squint widens with raised eyebrows. 

Akatani bares his teeth like the wild animal that he has the reputation of being, but not for any reason other than being openly outed about his persona. Himiko doesn't appear to be phased by whatever angered expression that he gives her if the cheshire grin on her own face is anything to go by. When Akatani glances back down at that girl in his arms though, his fury readjusts to its original target. Seething air through his gritted teeth, the ghoul accepts whatever fight is about to go down. Kakugan already active, all that's left is for his Kagune to make themselves present, the cochineal tentacles flowing out from his back like steady streams of blood. 

Sensing Akatani's hostility, the Yakuza leader holds his hands up to make a placating gesture. "In the event that you truly are who you're acclaimed to be.. I believe it would be in everybody's best interest to resolve this without any bloodshed.", he carefully chooses his words and makes sure to keep his hands up as verification that they're sincere. 

"Huh?", the spikey haired goon turns towards his boss with a perturbed expression, "But.. Overhaul, even if he is The Tokyo Ghoul, why should we give the brat a chance? We can take him!". The other thug does too, but without the need to vocalize their confusion. 

It's only the fraction of a complete turn, but the Yakuza leader called Overhaul tilts his head just enough to send a golden glare in his subordinate's direction. "Mimic.. Are you questioning my command?", his voice would have been more than enough to scorn the thug when used with that kind of tone. 

The man called Mimic cowers instantly, bowing his head and pleading for forgiveness. "Of course not! Your decisions are absolute! I would never dare to question them! Please, forgive me!", there's a crack at the end before he begins weeping over the mistake he had made.

"Quit groveling.", Overhaul motions for Mimic to raise his head back up, "I'll overlook your insolence just this once. Next time, you'll be exposed of."

"Thank you for your leniency, Overhaul. I won't disappoint you again.", Mimic wipes the tears from his eyes with a finger before he flicks them away. Once that doleful moment subsides, the muscular man returns to giving Akatani a darkly expression.

Overhaul ignores his subordinate, redirecting his attention back to Akatani. One of the hands that are raised comes down to point towards the young girl that's trembling within the boy's arms. "You've taken an interest in her.", he says it matter-of-factly, "You wish to take her from me, but we both know that I'm not so willing to let that happen."

"And yet, you claim that you want to settle this dispute peacefully.", Akatani warily watches the other two Yakuza that don't appear to share the same settlement. The one with the white raincoat slowly slides a hand into their pocket, attempting to stealthily grab whatever is inside. Overhaul follows the line of sight from Akatani to notice it too, beating the boy to the punch in saying something.

"Chrono.. Do not draw your weapon unless directly ordered to.", though that reprimanding isn't as harsh as the prior one. The henchman called 'Chrono' doesn't make any attempt toward trying to explain himself; he merely nods in submission before slipping his hand back out into the open to show that it's completely devoid of any knives or guns. "I understand the desire to take precautions, especially when facing someone with an unidentifiable quirk.. but that's a two way street; we're both in the same boat.. so to speak.", Overhaul glances between his own men and Akatani's side to let them know that it's directed towards all of them.

A few strands of blond hair drop loose when Himiko tilts her head in a cute pout, "I'm bored with all this talking! Can you get to the point already?", the whine is accompanied by an impatient wiggle, "Cause' I'm gonna start stabbing if not!"

Uta quickly slaps a hand over the blonde's mouth to keep her from saying anything else. "She doesn't mean that!", he nervously stammers out a forced laugh as if it were just a prank.

Whatever part of Overhaul's expression isn't covered up by the surgical mask shows that his patience is starting to run out. Regardless, he continues to hide his hostility by waving a dismissive hand towards Uta & Himiko. "She doesn't speak for The Tokyo Ghoul and neither do you.", and that's all he has to offer those two before pointing a finger towards Akatani once more, "My business is with HIM."

If it weren't grim enough already, Akatani's expression becomes even more steeled. The blood tails behind him go from whipping side to side to rising above him in an intimidating manner that's similar to that of a snake taking an upright posture. Gritted teeth look like they're bared when his lips curl into a ferocious snarl. 

"I meant what I said.. Blood is so unsanitary; I would like to avoid creating a mess. As would Uta, I'd assume, since this is his establishment.", Overhaul briefly tries to pacify the cornered animal that he's been presented with before elaborating on the alternative to brawling over Eri, "Which is why I'm going to offer you a solution. I propose that we make a wager over something other than our lives; I suggest we take a gamble over something far more sensible than violence."

Akatani raises an eyebrow as he listens to the Yakuza's offer, slightly intrigued with where it's going, but doesn't dare lower his guard just yet. "Join me in a game that's resolved many Yakuza disputes ever since the dawn of the Zhou dynasty.. Battle me in a game of Go.", Overhaul gestures towards the bandaged girl that hasn't stopped trembling ever since she ran into Akatani's arms, "If you win.. I'll allow you to leave with Eri. It'll be completely free of charge. There'll be no arguments. There'll be no death. It'll be fair. I'll keep my word."

Akatani's dour face falters over his bewilderment, but it recovers immeditally when he gives Overhaul a skeptical scowl. The Yakuza would never make an offer this generous, especially after being threatened. However, they're a group that's known to be quite honorable. Akatani mulls over the suggestion and finally realizes what's been left unsaid. He has to ask, "And what'll happen if I lose?"

The pointed finger curls over with the rest of Overhaul's hand as it clenches into a fist. That golden glint in the Yakuza leader's eye glistens after he answers, "Then YOU will belong to me just as much as Eri does."

Akatani instinctively opens his mouth to make a retort, but another tremor from the terrified girl in his arms makes him close it. Whatever words sat on the tip of his tongue slide back down his throat with a hard swallow. The cold stare stays fixated on Overhaul, but it's much more contemplative than threatening. Himiko opens her mouth next, taking Akatani's silence as a segway to chime back in. Before the blonde can say anything that'll be regetted later, the ghoul speaks in a volume that he knows will boom over her own. "I accept your challenge and its rules.", Akatani answers Overhaul while simultaneously retracting his Kagune. 

The ghoul knows that all eyes are now on him, ranging from Uta & Himiko to each Yakuza and Eri. There's no taking back his response; he has now made a pact with someone who may be equally evil as the devil themself. The whimpering from Eri has lessened, but she still looks horrified, whatever worries she has are now staring up at him in tear brimmed eyes. Himiko has always hidden her emotions behind a wide grin, but that smile is nowhere to be found currently. Uta has been distressed throughout the entire encounter, but he looks so pale now that Akatani worries the mask designer may have dropped dead and become a corpse. 

Overhaul appears to be quite the opposite of disturbed, his cheeks are pulled up enough for Akatani to know that there's a smile beneath that surgical mask. The Yakuza leader gestures for them to come away from the exit and return to the inner part of the shop. "Then let us begin.", his head flicks towards his subordinates in order to give them a command, "Grab us a board to play on."

Akatani keeps an eye on the Yakuza as they move to grab what's needed for his Go game with Overhaul. The ghoul can't help but wonder what such a notorious criminal organization will do to Musutafu. The police were already stretched thin with his activities as a vigilante, he has no doubt things will only escalate if Overhaul makes his gang more prominently presented. With extra attention to the underworld and its inhabitants, The Tokyo Ghoul will be put at jeopardy and so will everybody around him. Akatani thinks of Anteiku and his co-workers; he also worries about how it will affect Himiko or Uta who's already so involved with the conflict. The police investigation may gain more traction and receive help from the FBI if Yakuza population draws attention to his own nightly endeavors. If Akatani MIkumo is to continue misdirecting authorities, he must win this Go game. Otherwise, the lead detective may get heroes involved with his case for some assistance in the arrest.

Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi just so happens to be on the phone with Japan's top ranked hero right now. One hand holding a mug of lukewarm coffee that'd been brewed by Officer Sansa Tamakawa stays steady to ensure that it doesn't spill while another hand holds the cellphone. A spread of papers and case folders lay littered across his desk, each one containing confidential information about The Tokyo Ghoul. He keeps a close watch on his office door from the corner of blackened eyes, careful as not to allow anybody to overhear his conversation with the pro. 

"Sorry that I'm unable to stop by the precinct tonight; I hope that I haven't let you down.", All Might's disempowered voice comes from the other end of the line. The contrast in deepness doesn't ever change when Toshinori stops using his muscle form, but it's much more subdued in terms of exuberance. Whether it's to conserve whatever energy he has left or if the time limit has already been exceeded, it comes as no surprise for the detective to hear this truer version of All Might.

"Not at all, Toshinori! I understand!", Naomasa is thankful that the hero can only hear his response and not see the distressed pinching of his forehead. At this rate, the detective will develop wrinkles before he even turns forty. Without the aid of his friend for tonight's work load, Naomasa can barely resist the urge to let out a hefty sigh, nearly choking on the attempt. Clearing his throat to properly cover it up, the detective carries on with a much more hopeful tone. "I- Is there any chance that you can come in t- tomorrow?", he accidentally stumbles over the words as he tries to casually make this request.

It's only mildly worrying that there's no immediate response from the hero; it'd be silly to assume something happened to one of the most powerful men in, quite possibly, the world; but Naomasa has known Toshinori long enough to expect an instantaneous answer. The ambience that occupies the same speaker as the phone's electronic hum is enough to nearly become unsettling. Finally, Toshinori replies, albeit with a voice full of uncertainty, "I've never worked this closely with the police before.. I'm not sure that I'm cut out for all this crime scene stuff. I usually just punch villains really hard and leave the rest to REAL pros like yourself."

If All Might weren't so damned righteous, Naomasa would have considered that comment about police being the 'real pros' a derogative jab, but he doesn't need a lie detection quirk to know Toshinori is being one hundred percent sincere. It's almost funny how different of an outlook that the symbol of peace has about policemen. In this modern age, with quirks and literal superheroes, the authorities are often looked down on and more commonly get mocked about how useless they are in comparison. Nobody takes police seriously anymore; cops and detectives have become a bit of a dying breed. Yet, here's the number one hero of all people, calling what's considered the bare blunt of a bad joke an admirable profession instead. It's for reasons such as this one that Naomasa is proud to call Toshinori a friend; it's for reasons such as this that he so badly wants to work with this particular hero on this particular case.

"I'm not going to ask you to do anything outside of your comfort zone if you don't want to. You're already doing enough for this investigation by simply BEING HERE; your patrols have already warded off more small fry than the ghoul managed to and I think it's alright to assume you might even be enough to scare away The Tokyo Ghoul themself. ESPECIALLY if Eraserhead's theory about their age turns out to be correct.", Naomasa knows that All Might doesn't care about having his ego stroked but the reassurance feels necessary in order to prevent the hero from feeling bad in case he were to opt out of the investigation. The detective tacks on a few excuses on behalf of Toshinori just to be on the safe side, "Besides.. I know that you have your hands full with preparation for this year's semester at U.A. Finding a successor and all that will probably occupy enough time as it is."

"Th- Thank you, N- Naomasa!", it's easy to tell how flustered Toshinori has become over the compliments when all he can manage as a reply are clamored 'thanks' and noises of the phone fumbling in his hands. The detective resists the urge to laugh and waits for his friend to recover. "It's just.. I want to help. I really do. But you're right; there's a lot that I have to take care of right now and I'm not sure that I have enough time left in me per day to get it all accomplished.", the mood is killed by another grim reminder of All Might's reign nearing its end. "That doesn't mean that I won't help whenever the opportunity arises! But.. I can't promise you that'll it be every day that I'm here.", Toshinori is quick to reiterate his justifiable reasoning.

"That's more than enough, Toshinori. Feel free to stop by whenever you can.", Naomasa reaffirms his prior statement while allowing his head to droop a bit. He hopes that Toshinori can't hear the disappointment in his tone, but the hero had never been observant enough before to notice something like that now. However, there's a first for everything, and the detective would really prefer to prevent it getting pointed out. 

Fortunately, the detective is granted an excuse to hang up when his cellphone vibrates with the notification that there's another call coming in. "I hate to cut this short, but I've got to speak with somebody on the other line. I'll see you later, Toshinori.", he quickly spouts his reason for ending the call before clicking over to see who's next to speak with. 

Naomasa doesn't even have the chance to get out a proper greeting. As soon as he hits the answer button, he hears a familiar voice filling him in on classified information. "The Yakuza have resurfaced right here in Musutafu.", that's only the first sentence in this new conversation and it's already too much to unload. For starters, a case regarding Japan's massive criminal organization is just going to be another heavy thing to stack right with The Hero Killer of Hosu and Tokyo Ghoul of Musutafu. Secondly, for an underground hero that claims to be so rational, calling someone and not even beginning with a simple 'hello' is rather irrational. Then again, Eraserhead has never been one to waste time by beating around the bush.

"Y- Yakuza? There's no way..", Naomasa is still reeling in disbelief to fully comprehend whatever Eraserhead says next; it's likely the details of how the underground hero came across this intel, but the detective only catches bits and pieces about an information broker named Giran that's old enough to already have a rap sheet in the precinct's archive. Naomasa isn't aware of whether or not he's interrupting the underground hero, but he doesn't care since it's proprietary information that he NEEDS to know, "Do you think that they're affiliated with The Tokyo Ghoul?!"

"..I'm not sure.", the answer gives Naomasa an unsettling feeling in his stomach. Eraserhead skips the details deemed unnecessary at this point and finalizes his summary instead, "All I know is that they're more active than they've ever been. I've been following a group around and it led me to a mask shop, which leads me to the believe that this is the buildup for whatever scheme is starting to unravel."

Naomasa doesn't need to ask why the underground hero bothered to call, "That isn't enough for me to make an arrest, Aizawa. There's no evidence to justify--"

"I know.", Eraserhead interrupts with a firm response. The line goes quiet for a brief moment before the underground hero continues, "However, you're still able to get a search warrant for me. THEN.. we may be able to gather enough evidence to make an arrest."

Naomasa rubs the bags beneath his eyes, the very existence of them elict some kind of a cross between a yawn and a sigh. "We both know that by the time I get that search warrant in order, the Yakuza will be long gone from the store.", the detective holds firm with his voice as well as to not allow another interruption, "You're not the type of person that does wishful thinking. What's your angle, Aizawa?"

Eraserhead's breathing becomes stilted, indicating that he may be suppressing a sigh that's more than likely to be the cause if Naomasa knows the underground hero well enough. Soon, the inhales and exhales level out. There's the return of silence, only background ambience to let Naomasa know that the call hasn't ended. Then, "..Fine. Meet me at my apartment and I'll show you.", which is followed by the telltale click of Aizawa hanging up.

Naomasa lets his arm dramatically drop, almost like the phone in his hand weighs more than he can handle. The detective draws in a deep breath, holding it in for only a slight second, before exhaling completely in a satisfying sensation that no sigh could ever produce. After he slides the mobile phone into his pants pocket, he runs the free hand through his hair to make sure none of it has fallen out due to his stress overload. He's far too young to be developing grey strands, but he knows that they're there. Yet, if there's anything to drown one's woes with, it's coffee. The detective takes a quick swing of the lukewarm substance, convinced that it's more of a liquid courage than alcohol. Once he's had his fill, Naomasa swings open the door to his office so that he may finally face the world's problems head on. 

He knows his fellow officer won't be at their desk, so he calls out for them instead. "Tamakawa!", the bell latched to his co-worker's collar jingles when they whirl around to see who called their name. It's not so far fetched to see the cop with a cat quirk fraternizing with other slackers by the water cooler. Naomasa ignores the urge to scold them all and motions for Tamakawa to follow behind him instead, "Something's come up on the other end of town and you're driving."

"Ah, man..", Tamakawa's triangular ears flatten against his downtrodden head. Falling into submission, the officer digs into his pocket to find a set of car keys.

Naomasa pays no mind to how Tamakawa mourns the loss of a carefree night. Instead, the detective directs his attention to the next officer that he needs to speak with. "Tanjiro, while we're gone, I need you to pull up any records we may have about an information broker named Giran.", a young man with burgundy hair and hanafuda earrings gives an affirmative nod from their cubicle before quickly tapping at the keyboard of a computer monitor.

After a few more clicks, he begins to read back the information that loads, "Right.. C-Ranker named Kagero Okuta A.K.A Giran-"

"I said while we're gone!", Naomasa shouts as a reminder. The detective grabs his trademark overcoat off the precinct clothes hanger before whipping it on. "Have it printed out for me by the time that we get back and I'll read it for myself.", he speaks over his shoulder while heading for the exit. Then, pauses mid stride upon suddenly remembering something else, forcing himself to turn back around on the heel. "One other thing! Reach out to Sir Nighteye's agency and see if they'd be willing to cooperate on an investigation pertaining to the Yakuza.", he notices the cat-like cop on standby just in case there's anything else to add, "Tamakawa! Let's go!"

Realizing that they're definitely leaving this time, Tamakawa quickens his pace in pursuit of Naomasa. "Where are we going?", he figures he should ask since he'll be the one who's driving. 

"We're meeting Eraserhead at his apartment.", Naomasa gives a curt response without so much as glancing in Tamakawa's direction, " ..and then we're going to investigate a mask shop."

Meanwhile, residing within that very mask shop, are two of the precinct's most wanted. The Tokyo Ghoul sits directly across from the young head of the Yakuza, with only a game board in between them. White and black stones are stored in a pair of wooden bowls, both of which have their lids removed so the players can decide what colors they'll be given. As expected of the Yakuza, Overhaul follows the traditional method of selection called Nigiri. The eldest takes a handful of white stones and the youngest places either one or two black stones on the board. Akatani chooses an odd number of stones to lay out and Overhaul begins counting the number of stones in his hand to determine whether the turnout is odd or even in terms of matching or deferring from Akatani's count. The result is an even number of white stones and that's the color that the ghoul is given. Overhaul takes the bowl of black game pieces, seemingly thrilled by the prospect of getting to play the first move. 

Akatani releases an audible gasp, unable to conceal the initial shock over what his opponent's first move is. Overhaul played Tengen; a singular black stone glimmers from its spot at the board's center. Most players begin by capturing lower star points and work their way towards the middle later into the game. For whatever reason Overhaul chose this move, it's more than enough to make somebody wary. One could mirror their opponent's moves this way, resulting in a draw nonetheless, but still using their own strength against them. There's only one way to rid of this likelihood and prevent his enemy from receiving an advantage; Akatani places his own stone right next to the center point. There's no exhale or stilted breath from the young Yakuza, but Overhaul's golden glare hardens with an equally piqued curiosity. 

The next couple of moves is an exchange that both sides predicted immeditally after their first set of placed stones. A bumpy shape reminiscent to that of a circle is formed, mitch matching their black & white colors all around. What Akatani set out to accomplish has been achieved; Overhaul won't be capable of mirroring any moves without giving himself a handicap. However, the center of the board has been filled and compromised, the short lived battle has done nothing but limit their space and waste time. Akatani takes a moment to glance up from the board, searching for an expression behind his opponent's black medical mask, looking for any sign that this might have been their plan from the very beginning of the game. Overhaul gives nothing away, his 'poker face' as they would call it reveals zero hidden intentions. 

The only way to properly test his opponent is for Akatani to play a move that is neither the best nor the worst. On the opposite side, projected towards the middle but leaving enough space to conquer one side over the other. Stones that don't serve the purpose of capturing other stones or gathering territory are often deemed pointless, but the rare occasion of an exception can be made by players far more skilled beyond the average player. Yet, these moves can prove fatal mistakes for weaker Go players. 

Behind Overhaul, the Yakuza called Mimic begins to chuckle while he spectates the Go match. Mimic must be overly confident in his leader's capabilities; he doesn't deem the move as a difficult test and neither would an arrogant ruler with acolytes that feeds their ego. 

However, for a novice, they wouldn't know any better themselves. Not understanding the game of Go and how tactfully in depth it can be, the little girl named Eri can only read everyone else's reactions. Seeing her tormentors overly confident and the other side unsure of themselves, her hope begins to leak out in the form of tears. Soft sniffles and quiet whimpers don't go unheard; Eri lowers her head to hide behind a lengthy flow of hair.

Unable to meet her gaze with her eyes covered, Akatani must resort to other methods of assurance. Now reminded of why he's playing this game, motivation sparks his next move. Almost hastily, the stone gets slapped down. Overhaul calmly places his own stone, but as soon as his fingers slip away from it, Akatani slams down his next piece without hesitation. The Yakuza look amongst themselves, seemingly startled & mildly concerned, especially when this happens a third time.

'Speed Go' is the term for these almost instantaneous moves. Overhaul would presume it's an intimidation tactic at first, some players tend to use this trick as a means to make their opponent unconsciously play faster in order to keep up; the idea is that they'd eventually slip up by making a mistake. However, Akatani stares intently at the board between each move. The time it would usually take to mull over a counter is spent during Overhaul's brief pauses. The Yakuza shakes his head, ignoring the ghoul's faster technique; ultimately, taking his time will prove more beneficial. 

The two go back & forth, each side capturing an equal amount of stones. None of the missing pieces prove crucial until a while later. Suddenly, Overhaul realizes that move from earlier truly wasn't a mistake. Now, this mocking piece on the cluttered gameboard gives Akatani a momentous opportunity. Overhaul briefly glances up, his golden gaze shimmering under the light as he wonders whether or not the ghoul was truly capable of reading that much further into the game than himself.

Overhaul slowly lifts up the next stone from his bowl, contemplating what move he should make in order to counter attack. However, his line of sight never leaves Akatani and he can clearly see the boy mimicking his movement. The young Yakuza drops the stone back into his bowl, as does Akatani. Now irritated by his opponent, Overhaul snatches the piece that he dropped and roughly slams it into position on the Go board. Once again, the Yakuza is surprised by his opponent when Akatani simultaneously places his own stone right beside it.

The Yakuza are speechless, all of them amazed at how someone can play so quickly and yet so solidly. Overhaul would be sweating if he didn't find it revolting; the ghoul has captured the lower corner and the crimelord is behind now. If Akatani doesn't slow down, then Overhaul will be resorted to playing a game deciding move. It's a risky play, but one that leaves room for mistakes.

Overhaul places his stone. Akatani instantly reads through it, only a brief scowl on his face to let the Yakuza know how mild of a hindrance that it is. Without hesitation, the ghoul responds correctly. Now.. Overhaul is bound to lose.

With a shaky hand, the Yakuza leader reaches for his next chip to place. Just short of picking one up, his fingers twitch with an instinctive flinch due to Akatani's voice carrying over the board. "Oh? You wish to play it through rather than resign?", the tone holds genuine curiosity but the Yakuza hear a taunt.

Overhaul keeps his hand hovering over the bowl of Go stones, intent on taking one of them when he eventually spots a solution to his predicament. Golden orbs scan the gameboard that's littered with black & white pieces, searching for a way to recover from his supposed loss. No opportunity presents itself openly, but he feels hopeful enough to create one just short of the match finishing. At the very least, Overhaul wishes to draw the game so that they can play a rematch where he won't underestimate the ghoul a second time.

Reluctantly, Overhaul allows himself to grab another stone so that he may place it amidst the battlefield that he has created with his opponent. Checking the location of his placement a final time, the fingers slip away so that Akatani may respond with his own move. 

The instant reply of a stone tapping the board lets Overhaul know that it's his turn again. Yet, he sees no stone countering the one that he just placed. Whatever spot that the ghoul played will cost him the victory and give the Yakuza a chance to come back. 

"You lose.", The Tokyo Ghoul's voice snaps Overhaul from his concentration.

"Eh..?", Overhaul looks upwards to see his opponent is still holding a Go stone. The Yakuza begins to realize what happened. Overhaul had been so focused on the board that he didn't see an actual stone placement, he only heard the sound of a stone being tapped against the side of it. Akatani never actually made a responsive move. It's against the rules of Go to play twice in a row, which is exactly what Overhaul did, thus granting Akatani an automatic win.

"Why, you little -- SUCH DIRTY UNDERHANDED TRICKS!", the muscles that make up Mimic's body flex as he cocks a fist back. The Yakuza minion looks as though he's buffing up in preparation for battle. Akatani raises his own guard, fists and crimson tendrils readying for a fight.

But, an outstretched arm prevents the two from clashing with one another. "We had a deal.", Overhaul speaks for himself and the other Yakuza, "I will honor that deal.. The Yakuza is bounded by a code of honor afterall."

Mimic's ever present scowl remains, but his huff is all that's allowed to be released from the rage pent up inside of him. Chronostasis takes his finger off the trigger of a handgun, one that must have been drawn when the conflict started to brew. 

"Perhaps we'll play again some day.", Overhaul bids the ghoul a wave of farewell before ushering the previously captive girl towards the winner, "Run along now, Eri."

Uta flinches when Overhaul's golden glare pierces right through him, "I have other business to conduct.", the Yakuza leader refers to the masks that he had originally come for.

It's a dry swallow, but it's enough to clear his throat. "Right.. You kids best be going..", Uta gestures towards the door with a pleading expression. Akatani and Himiko nod in understanding before they bow and turn to leave. 

"Would you like to hold my hand?", Akatani holds it out for the frightened child so she can intertwine it with his own. The ghoul notices that she has an instinct to withdraw, and curls his fingers back up when she shakes her head. The thought of what Overhaul and his acolytes may have done to make this child so afraid of being touched crosses his mind for a brief moment, and in that moment, he ponders lashing out like he had originally planned to do in order to rescue her. However, he has to take Uta and Himiko into consideration as well, which is why he settles for having her follow him out of the mask shop. 

A harsh breeze hits the young trio as soon as they step outside. Akatani checks on Eri to see that she's shivering, but not bothering to whine or complain. It's a long walk from the store back to his home and he doesn't want her catching a cold or the flu regardless of whether she's quiet about it or not. He doesn't particuarly regret giving his hoodie to Himiko, but he knows that the little girl will need it more since she'll have a lower tolerance for the colder climate. Fortunately, Himiko also takes notice of this problem and removes the hoodie herself, "I needed to give it back anyways, right?"

"Thanks, Himiko.", Akatani flashes her an appreciative smile before handing the hoodie to Eri. "You should probably get someplace warm.", he knows that it'll be impossible for Himiko to avoid acknowledging how cute the child looks in such an oversized article of clothing and that she doesn't have that time to be exposed in the cold.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow then. Good luck with the kid; let me know if you need anything.", she somehow manages to casually wave it off and begins to trot towards what Akatani assumes is the direction of her own house.

"Alright, Eri.. Looks like it's just you and me now.", Akatani checks on the child again and sees that there's no change in her uncomfortable disposition. Admittingly, it may be weird for a while, but he knows that she'll be better off with him than Overhaul. "Let's get you to your new home.", he waits for a response but isn't all that surprised to get none. Then, he leads the way.

Eventually, the two of them step through an ivory door. From within the hood that's enclosed around her tiny head, Eri's expression becomes one of awe. Akatani's living space is so cluttered with stacks of books that it may as well be an unshelved library. The boy flicks his lightswitch, illuminating the dim atmosphere just a tad more and showcasing the cluttered boxes that were hidden amidst now retracted shadows. Not even a slob or a hoarder would let the mess get this out of hand; anybody would presume that he just moved in. Yet, these books are EVERYWHERE. 

Akatani becomes bashful, as if he had forgotten what his own apartment looks like. Rubbing the nape of his neck to sooth the red blush with a chilly hand, the boy tries to level out the awkwardness with a joke and a technical presumption. "I hope you like to read.. Cause I've got plenty..", he then begins to wonder if the girl is even old enough to read yet, "I can teach you if not.. I mean, if you'd like.."

Eri continues to scope out the bizarre layout, still overflowing with childish wonder. For the first time since she ran into his arms back at the mask shop, she acknowledges him with speech. "D- Do you live here? A- All alone?", she nervously wrings her hands and keeps her eyes diverted as she asks him this question. There's the body language of an expected flinch, as if his answer will be something to shy away from. 

Akatani doesn't want her to be scared of him, so he crouches down to her level with a smile much warmer than the weather outside. That wonderful expression of awe returns to her face when he replies, "Not anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been way too long, my dear readers! I originally meant to get this out so much sooner; I worked tirelessly sometimes over the span of Halloween and Thanksgiving but I just never got this chapter fully written until now so tis' the season, I suppose! 
> 
> So, the new season of My Hero Academia has begun and I'm excited to be introducing Eri & The Yakuza during the same time that the show is.  
> Then there's the manga, which is just wild with all these taunts & teases about Touya (hopefully Dabi) and now that recent cliffhanger that connects to the Vigilantes spinoff!  
> My inspiration/motivation is of no shortage currently, but my time very much is. Don't worry, that doesn't mean I'll give up on the story any time soon though.
> 
> Another anime that I got into was Hikaru No Go, which you can probably tell by this chapter that I was a bit self indulgent at the time..  
> I had to reign myself in with all of my excitement, cause Demon Slayer was just as phenomenal of a show and my creative juices were overflowing. You may or may not have caught the subtle nod towards it with my inclusion of Tanjiro.  
> Now there's Mandalorian, which I always intended to have Eri become a part of this story, but the 'Baby Yoda' stuff is like adding fuel to that fire.
> 
> Which, okay, all of my enthusiasm for this particular story is great. However, it drained a lot from what I had stored in 'Since That Day'. I suppose you could consider that story is on hiatus, but as of now, I have no more intention of continuing or finishing it. Perhaps a rewrite will be in order later down the line, if it's truly asked for enough..  
> I hate to disappoint anyone that reads that story too, but I figured it'd be best to be honest with you rather than drag out your hopefulness.
> 
> While on the topic of touching up my stories.. I have a few questions/favors to ask of you all. Firstly, is if any of you know how I can make the text italics? Secondly, is pertaining to 'Glassy Sky' and whether or not I should rename the title to something more fitting.. as well as maybe the description. Any recommendations you have would be appreciated and taken into consideration.
> 
> Oh, by the way, here's a little trivia for you!  
> The one horned reporter in this chapter is an actually frequent newscaster from canon; his name is Daikaku Miyagi.  
> Also, those thieves that tried stealing the television in this chapter are from canon; they're Team Reservoir Dogs.  
> I want to avoid having any OCs as much as possible, so you can expect these characters to be relevant regardless of how obscure they are.
> 
> Last, but certainly not least, is my absolute appreciation for all of your good spirited comments! It means the world to me!
> 
> With that said.. I bid you all farewell until next time!


End file.
